The fire is warm, the candles are lit
you grab one as you prepare to sit
finally with a slouch and a sigh
You open the text with heavy laden eyes
In that soft dark corner
Soon you're transported to a magical place
but that's when the roots begin to take place
you think back to the fear and death
caused by those who cause distress
In that soft dark corner
The attacks of the Jailers who know no avail
as they spill blood to try and keep their secret veil
Their keys continue to jingle
as those around them learn not to mingle
in That soft dark corner
The fire burns bright, set by those who will
seeing this destruction of information with a trill
The infamous Bookburners with this light
only ever wish to see us die out of spite
in that soft dark corner
To top off this tower of misery and death
are the Madmen who want to see the dying breath
as they force the spear ever deeper
their crazed laughter getting deeper and deeper
in that soft dark corner
And finally as the blood begins to dry
you silently tire and wish to die
but to no avail is this heard
as the cover closes and your head turns
in The Corner of the Library that begins to burn