Along the aisles,
amongst the echoed words
and shuffled verse,
beneath the still lingering curses,
the wearisome chronology
of this ever-expanding universe.
If you listen closely.
Really close,
let the others sounds
meld into one,
pop out of existence.
As you focus,
you will hear a sob.
A steady cry.
A melancholic moan,
a whispered why.
For even the moon
has her own book
along the shelves,
in this library of time.
and her words speak for themselves,
a whimper every time the bell chimes.
She has seen so much pain
So many downpours of rain
a mere mortal brain can't comprehend,
She has seen lives
stutter to an end,
crash into flame, fade before thrilling.
She has seen wars beginning
over lines she can’t even see.
Killing for borders that mean nothing.
fighting over the colour of skin,
or what mystical being
we are told to believe in.
She has witnessed tragedy,
So many calamities,
Across the endless ravages of time.
She has seen savagery, crime,
pollution clogging her eyes.
She has seen hate,
witnessed it's birth and its ultimate fate.
She has seen loss, felt every strain of its pull,
like tides working in reverse,
she has read every verse,
seen ripples fade into nothing
as they flutter across the vast universe.
She has heard sobs,
just like her own.
She has watched on
as love is standing alone.
She wants to reach out
and hold onto them,
but she has no arms,
just these light beams
that many don't realise
are meant for them.
Thanks for reading
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