Athena

The library is filled with dust.
each particle dances in slanted sunbeams,
golden light pours across wooden floors.

an owl hoots faintly in the distance,
a war cry for the knowledge lost
to millennia of humankind.

the spiderwebs are silver,
and crumble to unrecognizable dust
under the glare of authority, power.

dried ink rests on tables and bodies,
the blood of philosophers and mathematicians,
scientists, linguists, mankind.

-Divya
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do you think if i just ignored my work for long enough it would magically just be done for me