Halls of the Dark Muse

Solace

Trapped behind these bars
with nothing to keep me company
but yellowed pages which I turn
with tender care, breathing in their scent
wondering at the places they have been
the places I will never have the chance
to visit.

Left in the half-light
of shadows, only with these
reminders of a life upon the outside
a decaying leaf which was trapped
between my pages, carefully pressed
it smells of another world,
it smells of the seasons.

The passage of time no longer
of any meaning to me
lost in this world of darkness
a world of no night or day,
repeating the words
with whispered fervor
finding solace as my fingers
trace the ink.

Old leather against my skin,
the comforts of home
lost to me forever more,
I carry now this talisman,
my only friend, now to be free
only among broken words.