I open the last book on Earth,
I saw the dust of my own,
It was titled with ugly words,
And the nightmares I was shown,
At the end of my library,
Like the rest were scattered,
It was bonding with the webs,
And the little did it mattered,
I saw that last period,
While the book lying on my chest,
I was staring the ceiling,
Like I was following its behest,
I open the last book on earth,
Which forced me to glower,
I read my death in the last,
While I was dying like a wither flower.
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Author:
I.G. (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: December 22nd, 2021 14:47
- Category: Sad
- Views: 20
Offline)
Comments1
It’s very sad
Yet so poetic
Like the last book in stall
I, who stand at corner wish to be interpreted once in life
Great writing dear poet
How sad it must have been for that last book to feel the hatred that every one must have shown. Thank you dear reader!✨
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