Of loneliness and agony.

Lost between the pages,
I kept waiting for someone to come find me.
It was ages before there was a knock on the cover,
And then a swish,
Like someone trying to dust off the cobwebs.
I was left on the shelves for far too long,
My pages were yellowed and moth-bitten.
The words appeared faded,
Their ink having bled out from years of loneliness.
When the cover finally opened,
The first sliver of light
Breathed life into each word,
And soon it was all sunshine and rainbows.
Alas, all good things must come to an end.
It was a beautiful day,
I was revelling in my new found happiness,
When a sharp pain hit my spine.
A crack and a rip.
My pages were being torn.
One by one.
And I yearned to be back on the shelves again.
The pain lasted until I was stripped off all my glory,
Until I had lost all sense of identity.
And then came a thump,
And absolute darkness.
The cover was closed.
I was thrown back on the shelves again.
Only this time,
There were no pages to get lost into.
Only a perpetual darkness
Haunted by demons,
And a noise,
Like pages being shred.
And I was lost.
This time, forever.

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