THE BOOK

first_imgThe book was in this very revered libraryIt shelved in a space seen by very honoredThe pages were covered in gold flint linerMade leather like by winds of many lunarA hardback of diamond protects the emberTucked finely that a borrower would comeSomeday pick it up and caress each leafThe BookThe book was written to tell the story of humansEtched on the mud grounds of mangrove miresRoofed in a shack with holes right into heavensHardly enough room for a pleasant night sleepRations of morsel were scarce and very happyAfter hours of toil for Mama needed a hand tooTime has buffed the rugged boy to a pacesetterThe BookThe book for perusal to become a prized keepAs the sheets dust with time the message newA trophy made of all the earth groomed to glowChants a ballad that lifts the faces of our poorestOf a seafront bathed in the breath of evil leadersZinc shacks stern with daily refuse paves the wayWhich founders stood solid by the Book of books?The BookShare this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)last_img

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