Thursday, November 01, 2018

Bebelplatz, Berlin

it was glorious, someone said
books consumed as fires spread
words that lied, deceived, misled
nought but ashes, now unread

I saw the flames, I watched the fire
hot inferno climbing higher
the death of words that could inspire
such a blind and brutal pyre

all rivals dead, just one to reign
yet thoughts and dreams cannot be slain
poets write, their words unchain
and books will live and breathe again

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