An open book lying forgotten on the floor,

The pages ripped,

The corner torn,

The binding, once strong, chewed on by mice.

A fire starts,

The pages curl,

Black smoke rises.

Only ruins now;

Ashes

Ashes everywhere.

No one cares;

The book meant nothing-

An ancient story, long forgotten;

Words so faded, none can read.

No one will miss it.

It is not needed.

Let it feed the fire,

Let it burn.

Now destroyed

No evidence left

No mark made upon the surroundings.

Just ash

Ash blown away by the wind;

Scattered afar-

With nothing left.

It was the book of my life.