The Books
The books wait brickly on the shelves.
Like silent soldiers they hold it all in
filled with a million words and hurts,
yet with mouths clamped shut they wait
immobilised by the dead weight of experience.
Great things have been built with these.
They marched out into the wilderness
and armed with the strength of words
they ordered the speech of the world
and now bear silent witness to their triumph.
They colonised us.
Yet now like so many rusted veterans
the empire of books is on the wane,
and while we derided their damage
we lost hope for their rescue in vain.
DH ([email protected])
Like silent soldiers they hold it all in
filled with a million words and hurts,
yet with mouths clamped shut they wait
immobilised by the dead weight of experience.
Great things have been built with these.
They marched out into the wilderness
and armed with the strength of words
they ordered the speech of the world
and now bear silent witness to their triumph.
They colonised us.
Yet now like so many rusted veterans
the empire of books is on the wane,
and while we derided their damage
we lost hope for their rescue in vain.
DH ([email protected])