F004: The Leather Spine

(ST Notes: pending publication. T'was a productive WhatsApp chat. Thank you, muse)

The tired brow was sweating,

exhausted legs burning.

His rough ragged breathing

and his chest was heaving

For twas a long day
as all days now seemed.
Though his body was broken
only his eyes did gleam.

Darting from corner to corner
searching for the treasure.
To release him from this prison
and into a world of pleasure.

And lo behold, there it lay
amongst his sheets of yesterday.
Where he'd left it in his sleep
when his demons were at bay

His fingers found the spine

and forgot their fatigue
Softly he traced a line
along its crumpled being

Breathing in their story

Flipping through their lives
of kings, queens, wizards
of daughters, husbands and wives

To him they were real
more than a world now gone dim
And he was a part of them
as they were a part of him

He picked up were he'd left
A sunny day of spring

and though the night grew on

No darkness could it bring

And onwards he devoured

pages after pages
Their lives now he favoured
Than his own, of ages.

And when he did finish
The pain tore him apart

Melancholy filled his heart
as their souls did depart

And now the darkness crept
The dirty room visible.
For then he silently wept

Only emptiness he found

The night did wear out
and in came a sunny day
But his face was blank
and happiness far away

The same weary paths
His body now dragged on
His mind was somewhere
Lost from dusk to dawn

And then he saw
A sight sweeter than wine
For his heart did thaw
As he saw another spine.