Inside the library,
A placid place to be.
An ethereal moment
In it’s poetic imagination.
Some people might feel like
A boat leaking and
Bobbing into luxury,
But when starting to read,
Suddenly feels nostalgic.
Like petals we eventually fall,
For books especially in a
Climax like, and suddenly
Feels basorexious with
The plot twist of the story.
Ideas could slip through
You like water,
It kinda flashes back to your
Brain with thousand
Million memories fading,
Like the people on a photograph.
It may be rumbled sometimes,
But I can’t help it.
My thoughts are stars I cannot
Fathom into constellations.