It's sad really.
To see the endless adventures go to waste.
To witness them lie  there never to be uncovered.
To never see the dragon vanquished or the lovers finally meet.
To forever lock the words of countless poets and philosophers.
No one will ever gain the knowledge of the written pages.
No more shall people dive into the worlds of fantasy, and escape from their own.
The shelves remain full, the stories gathering dust and mold.
Not a single person cares about the abandoned library on Chestnut Street.