A Book For the Morning

I wish to read something, Anything which will allow my mind to wonder - Exploring infinite cosmos of words that Expand forevermore into an unknown darkness. So I picked a book for the morning, My imagination free to run wild Like the mighty bulls roaring. This trembling, terrible thrill- The quiet whisper under my breath Shaping and crossing the bounds - A world free from the chains of my eyes, And instead they break their rusty locks. My fingers trace the words Following its slender path until the overwhelming Climax - I grasp the curved edges, a rush So high everything around me dissolves. Then I am back. The darkness of reality chases me restlessly, Turning those bright brilliant words into black. I feel lost - but found. The book is at its end, but my life continues. And I - its author - with fresh muse.