The Library of the Lorn

Distant owl calls pervade through the dilapidated walls

To form an eerie melody

Combining with the earthy notes of dust-concealed organ keys-

The dissonance reverberates,

Unsettling a sleeping past

That echoes of forgotten dreams.

***

Moths flying from the holed remains of musty velvet curtains

Like organic drab confetti

Diffuse into the insect crowd that lines the faded tapestries-

Disturbances regenerate

In temporary quietness

And cycles of disharmony.

***

Candles cast a modest light throughout the aging hall

So one can strain to barely see

The endless shelves of knowledge and historical debris-

With pages stuck together now,

An inky mess of blurry pasts

Untouched by man for centuries.

***

An ancient tome holds messages that once foretold the past

And warned of crystal enemies

That fractured in the twilight of this aged fantasy-

Defiling glass with dirt and dust

That settles in the tug of war

Of wisdom and morality.

***

A thousand souls in characters emit a flickered light

With inspiration struggling

To touch the minds too occupied to pick them up and read-

Solutions turn to obstacles

When faced with old dilemmas we

Forget the forlorn library.