I look upon the shelves before me,
Standing monoliths of brimming pages,
A patchwork quilt of human thought,
This veritable cacophony of print,
A record of the printed page,
With little or nothing to say.
A few rare diamonds glimmer,
works that transcend the ages,
Truths recited from abstract thought,
Poetry of the ageless soul,
A testament to our potential,
Gibberish to the popular profanity.
Sacred once those pages seemed,
Inviolate bastion of our human art,
Pages that writ the human soul,
Now a decaying testament of mimicry,
Regurgitated thoughts of borrowing minds,
Observational doctrine borne from others.
What will we pass along the way,
Paper scraps for they who backwards look,
Who shall wonder what we were,
What glimpses shall these pages tell,
Greatness turned to dust betwixt covers,
Windblown into nothingness.
Daniel J. Holloway.
deHoleweia; 2012.
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