Intrigued by the concept behind “In the Library,” but unsure if you really want to buy the book? Allow me then to provide you with a taste of what is contained within this text with this exclusive sneak preview! Here is one of the poems contained within “In the Library” for your literary enjoyment. If you like what you read, by all means, click on the Purchase page above for information where you can order this book.

To provide some relevant back-story, this is one of the Book Character poems in the sequence of the narrative. After Neil experiences a terrible fate, he is led into the mysterious Library and begins reading from the various books contained in them, feeding off of their stories and learning from them. This excerpt contains one of the Books/poems that Neil reads. Enjoy:

—————————————————————————————————————————

Word of Healing

You’ve seen terrible things,
Or heard them vicariously.

We all have inside here,
This Library of pain;
Our realities fractured and broken,
We’re cursed by our worldviews.

Let me tell you this Lover’s,
To add to your journey.

From nearly unknown origins,
A tiny spark ignites within;
And for days my body locked,
Inside the grip of panic:
Heart threatening secession
By beating out of my chest,
Breath is indecisive,
Between rapid and barely existent,

And this pit in my stomach,
Is nearly as void as my soul.
I lay strewn on this bed of mine,
Like a medieval rack of torment.

Though I can barely make it
Topside and through the day,
The world still blankets around me,
Smothering with darkened disregard.

No medicine or food can cure this,
Although each remedy I’ve tried.

Friends and family are all shadows,
If they even care at all.
With midnight approaching relentlessly,
And hope exiting en masse,
I turn to you, my love,
To receive healing from my angel.

Every hurt I pour towards you,
How I feel so alone, so scared, so cold!

Each word, a fallen poison drop,
Moments seem to go by,
Etching across an infinity.

And then I hear you begin,
The voice to bring me comfort:

“Okay”

Moments more pass me by.
I protest more, to this end:

“Okay.”

Thus an angel falls into sleep.
I crawl away, pain resumed:
Bleeding frozen, saline droplets,
Desiring only your embrace,
Left horrified by your indifference.

But your image I still believe in;
I have no choice but to sustain it:
To embrace an angel’s arms,
In dreams, if not in reality.
For the sake of my fading sanity,
And preserving bound-kept life,

For it is all that can keep me
From kicking the chair away.

Do you understand it, Neil?
Or least you’re beginning to:
Reality is cruelest when nightmares are real.

I held to whatever I needed to
To get through the day, my life.

What you choose to believe in,
Is your choice alone to make,
But choose something worthwhile.

Does it even matter what I choose?
Who is truly there to help me?
Could I walk out of here now,
Knowing at least some sanity exists?

You don’t truly see it yet, then:
None exits the Library unscathed.
Comfort is an illusion, Neil;
And healing, what you make of it.