To the world slipping out of time--caged in the dungeon of
Down-shelves in my library; perchance I met an old diary there--
Tucked into a torn coat staring deep down at my heart.
Whispered, "Remember me?"
"No" was hesitantly unstripped between my lips.
"Old you are! Ugly and broken!"
"You are old too--forsaken and deadened"
"No, look at me, I am your youth;
I am your love, inspiration, aspiration and dream"
My thought travelled through forests and meadows
Of years, months, hours and moments;
Slowly it took me inside--burrying me
Between the pages that still bears my own odour--
Kissed upon my temple and whispered again,
Through the mellowing dirge, I closed my eyes,
I felt dying, then died, then opened my eyes again,
Before closing it finally and whispered,