The light eeks as though pierced through a bubble
Cloud's a light bulb; iridescence a stranger
Distant pounds muffled, yet sounding slowly
Papers rustling, forest of created simplicity
tickling my ears and laying me down
retiring into old ideas and youthful reprise
such simplicity, such grace, such comfort
in a room I've never frequented
as if exploration were the devil's ruse

How ironic that here science and study have penetrated
old tradition and oft forlorn inscriptions
yet those same explorers leave the world as strangers

How surreal: Is it a blessing or a curse?
Lessons should not solely be learnt in verse