Perishing Library

One day, soon someday,

The phantom pain of the amputee,

Will slip from memory’s grip.

Dreams with voices would no longer cut adrift,

No more will it bewail the loss.

But except every once in a long time,

When a stranger leans in as lovingly,

It would flood again,

Gasping for the next breath,

Taking to vague restlessness,

But still in relief,

To have saved the book of memory,

From that perishing library.






Copyright: Word Hunter

P.C Pexels


23 thoughts on “Perishing Library

  1. Thank you very much for the visit and following my blog. It gave me an opportunity to connect with a lovely poet (you). Loved the above words to the core. Bitter sweet and deep.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Oh, this seems to be about the vividness of moments in life recounted during the last moments of life, rekindled every so often. Beautifully done whether I’m correct or not! 🙂


  3. I’ve been reading a lot of your work, and you’re good. Really really good. This story in particular is the only one I’ve seen in a long time to talk about this specific subset of mental health that needs much more attention. Thank you for writing this!


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