An Old Library

An old library smells like, The calm before a storm, The earthy smell of wet soil, And the forgotten people in books. The rusty smell of paper, Mingled with the scent of dust, Weathered by years of sunlight, Proof of how long it has lasted, The test of the time and still exists. Not just a collection of old books, But of characters forgotten today, Stories waiting to be read by someone, Loneliness, Pain, Ache, all combined, Waiting to be freed from the confinement.