That Is Not Me

Tales forgotten through time and space,

Make their home in this dismal place.

Thoughts that man no longer recall,

Preside in awing, to the right, down the hall.
 

And in this land of misplaced lore

A peace abounds, not known before.

Thick stone walls and dusty shelves,

 A place somewhere inside ourselves.
 

Within these walls of cold gray stone,

Something tells me I’m not alone.

The conscience of humans, the achievements of man,

Give me a clue, as to who I am.
 

And if someday you leave your mind,

Where your sanity does preside,

Perhaps you’ll come and join me,

And find a place to hide.