The book was in this very revered library
It shelved in a space seen by very honored
The pages were covered in gold flint liner
Made leather like by winds of many lunar
A hardback of diamond protects the ember
Tucked finely that a borrower would come
Someday pick it up and caress each leaf
The Book
The book was written to tell the story of humans
Etched on the mud grounds of mangrove mires
Roofed in a shack with holes right into heavens
Hardly enough room for a pleasant night sleep
Rations of morsel were scarce and very happy
After hours of toil for Mama needed a hand too
Time has buffed the rugged boy to a pacesetter
The Book
The book for perusal to become a prized keep
As the sheets dust with time the message new
A trophy made of all the earth groomed to glow
Chants a ballad that lifts the faces of our poorest
Of a seafront bathed in the breath of evil leaders
Zinc shacks stern with daily refuse paves the way
Which founders stood solid by the Book of books?
The Book


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