My books more important
Than life itself
Without which i would surely die
If all were to perish
All humans, all animals
All things of the worldly universe
If they were to leave
Leaving me alone forever
As long as my books are their i'll survive
No need for human contact
No need to talk to others
When they talk to me
Through their magnificent words
Life is bearable as long as
They are with me
Once they leave my side
I have not the slightest idea
On how to continue life
How will I live without
their glorious words
their amazing binding
the smell of it's ink and paper?
How will I continue to live?
The answer is easy and simple
I WON'T