On this table, lay the book

Papers sheathed in skin

Bound by flesh and bone

Written in blood, dry and sore

Turn the pages,

Stain your soul

Within these

Lie the stories of gore

Enter the world,

Dare to explore.


People are like books
Yet they remain closed
And expect to be read
We neither judge by cover
Nor content
But by conversation
And it’s extent

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