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The burning of books
((A poem explaining why the library burned up, yet again.))

The candle light flickered as it licked up the wax;
The undead slept and dreamed from the past.

The demons, they came and clogged memories of life--
Plagued shadows of death approached his lone wife.

Their child inside, stirred...sensing danger draw near.
The haunted one's love saw them and cowered in fear.

He reached out and ran down a small winding path;
The plague demons attacked with unstoppable wrath.

His dear child cried from within his wife's womb;
The shadows consumed her in a harrowing tomb.

The undead screamed out--angst turning to rage.
She was crying his name, still alive in the cage.

The shadows held tight; her life almost gone;
Her body--it weakened, then things went all wrong.

An explosion so great, ripped out in a wave;
Each shadow consumed and sent to its grave.

His wife's form was gone, and so too was his child;
He let forth a cry, unfettered and wild.

His magic unbound escaped from his dreams,
Went forth in the night, surpassing his screams.

Months of painstaking work, now consumed by the fire;
The pages now smoldered, now bound to the pyre.

The shadows approached in descent from above;
The one named Razan still mourned for his love.

And then she was there; he held her so close;
Her touch felt so real! She wasn't a ghost!

His love in his arms dissipated like smoke;
He breathed her in and started to choke.

She was now inside, and he felt only death.
His eyes flew open; he gasped searching for breath.

There was smoke all around; he was surrounded by chaos.
He collapsed to the floor overwhelmed by the loss.

A hand on his shoulder brought him around;
He picked himself up and got up off the ground.

. . .

After the flames were put out and the smoke cleared away,
He felt himself drifting to a clear sunny day.

It was him and her in the sun on a hill;
He put the ring on her; and she said, "I will."

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