Literature Maze Poem by Far Lapenna

The thick wood blocking my eyes
The slim wood holding up knowledge,
The walkways lined with coarse fur rugs,
No pillar to cut out the sights.

Soft hissing fills up every crevice
As to drown out incessant whispers,
Grubby hands trace the spines of hardbacks;
They are worn away by time and critters.

Spectacles glint softly in the gloom
Fingers are brought to lips for silence,
The quiet unnerves most; they stay away
There are not enough of us to cause a disturbance.

Words linger in thin lined pages
No tongue permitted to utter them,
The mind is just as capable as the tongue,
A rebellious child is awaiting.