THOUSAND DIFFERENT WORLDS

The swish and flick of a wand,

Or sailing with the children of gods.

Wielding a blade against demons,

Or surviving death serums .

Suffering to protect those you love,

Or stranded in a maze trying to stay alive.

Poking around in a fireplace,

With Poirot, solving a murder case.

 

These books are not just paper and words,

They are a thousand different worlds.

More than a million people

Some family while others, children of devils.

My heart is a peace,

When activity will cease.

As I settle down with my nose buried,

Inhaling the scent, I start to read.