The Library of Alexandria

Was gifted a wilted candle

Put on the top shelf

Of the grandest display

They said an angel tipped it over

When the books began decay

For the people all forgot

Became less grateful, and complacent

So the Angel sent from sky

Made sure the scripture remained ancient

What’s a story, without the read?

The picture never seen

The soil, sun and water

Without a planted seed

This angel is a guardian

Of gardenias and weeds

That pulls upon the etches

Of the forgotten woven seams

So it seems this vagabond angel

Found a place in rot

But the wise men amongst us say

It’s the angel we forgot

For we make and make and die and live

Forever, and even more

So the Angel of Goodbyes

Is just the doorman on the floor