The library is silent.
There are no words;
Hope lays bound.
Self-biography falls from the shelf,
I forget myself and am hushed to nothing;
Knowledge gathers dust on dust.
I open an empty page,
It falls back to less than it had hoped to be.
Glasses shattered I could not read if even there were unblotted pages.
Eyes dimmed in pain I could not read if even every page was not torn.
Language forgotten in heart and mind.
Emptiness fills the arrangement of shelves.
‘Till a scream.