The soft pages of a book, unfolding in hand,
Welcoming, and comforting,
Daring you to take the dive and drown in the story within its pages,
Crying softly at each page of their misery,
And laughing at their jokes and irony,
But then it ends,
With you still there, waiting for the next page that will never come,
But still you sit there and wonder,
Is that it?
Is that the end?