Open the doors to the library,
Heavy and old, a dark-wood grain,
Red, and slightly faded upon one side,
Where the WIND,
RAIN
And SUN have worn out the colour.

The wind whistles across the door,
Takes upon a tinge,
And floats around the skies,
Causing such beautiful red sunsets.

The rain pelts against the door,
Melts all the colour away,
And cries upon the pavement,
Washing away the sorrows it harbours.

The sun burns the door,
Ageing,
Taking away, and never giving.


But that's what they all do...


A marble floor, that speaks in echoes when you walk,
Makes you _JuMP, from one colour
                                                     to another,
As it leads you into the BIGGEST ENTRANCE!

It always seemed to clap with joy when you entered,
But you were always so in awe of it.

The curving staircases seemed to grin at you,
With teeth so straight, and a banister black.

The chandelier that hung from its ears,
It glittered and sparkled,
Hung with cobwebs and sprinkled with dust.

Spiders play killer in the upper corners,
And look down upon you,
Deciding that you'd be too big a meal for them.


They've eaten everything else out of here...


Left to right,
                   And right to left,
Covered with shelves that bow down,
And seemingly sit upon the marble floor,
Leaving not a print, a figure, or a word,

Bending, swaying from side to side,
Like a slow-dance, wrapped in your arms,
But only so far away, under such a great weight,
A paper weight,
Papers.

Placed, stack, in
                   a
                 row,
In numerical₁₂₃ order,
According to fictitious skies,
Or logical orders,
And then by theme, process, time, subject,
Yes, subject,
Or subjected...?

Take out, put away, replace,
Take out, put away, replaced and,
Used.

So used to this routine,
Taken out, replace, put away,
Take out, replaces, put away,
Take out, replace, putting away,


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