The Life of:
A old hand stoked along the books over, as cracked lips spoke,
"The Life of.....who.....Me of course"
there was a light chuckle in the voice, as if it was reflecting on what was,
"I use to me so much more, but now, that feels like a dream, years ago i lived my life, days and nights"
a cough crossed the old voice, as it kept an odd optimism.
"I pass this to you, cause that's what you do with words, pass them on, even though you might forget these words, what they might inspire will create new words, new thoughts, new...anything"
the coughing slowly got worse, but the voice kept on going.
"my life...was never important, my deeds will go unsung, but my words, the ones i wrote, the pages I forged...please let them live on"
the voice mustered up a final breath....
"Please Take this Book....Take My Life"
........