On a rainy night

I cracked the spine

Of the book that would change me

 

Shaping my mind and filling my thoughts

With prophecies and battles

And cats made of flame

 

The smell of those pages

Is one I have yet to encounter again

So the memory is clear and pristine

Bits and pieces of my life

Between those well-worn papers

 

Their names remain fresh on my tongue

No matter how long it’s been since I’ve heard their voices

Echoing in my head

I honor them in my own way

Years on