Books hold out their hand for me to take.
Shelves wrapped their protective arms around me.
Holding onto my written secrets and wishes dearly.
Inviting me to dream along with them.
But, sooner or later there shall be a great battle.
For someone shall pry these pages open
And view secrets that are not meant for their eyes
And the war shall begin
To defend my secrets
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem