Undying

A city so old ,  these railway tracks older than my grandpa;

 The strange faces and their livesand their untold stories;

 The abandoned old mansions invaded by dust once inhabited by the invaders, so antique and crumbling yet startling as they lie in the middle of a busy street filled with men in their commutes; Now in motor vehicles , Once in carts and beasts carrying them to their destination around the city who fail to acknowledge the architecture that will soon fall into the soil;

 The soil itself that has roots of the tall tress growing deeper than i'd ever grow;

 Deeper it goes into this city of humid air with salted water - claiming some in my personality ,probably draining some calcium off the bones that had been buried beneath it many moons ago, eras worth of moon light when the nights where longer than the days ;

The accounts of the bones would probably lie in a book as a account of a discovery and an adventure that overjoyed the risk, the one they were willing to sacrifice their life for;

 The pages hardly touched , retain the smell of those few fingers that laid their hands on this book of a purpose and left with a knowledge and a story that was hidden within those words almost living the experience in a world of imagination of perfect reality;

The smell of the fingers are now covered with dust , the dust that gathered over these years that remind you of the very existence of the library.

These are the excerpts that were excluded in the memoirs of the past