I chose to build a fortress
in the middle of the woods
and line along the edges
pillars of aged books.
Now why, you ask,
did I choose to build
a thing so odd,
what is it for?
So strange a thing
on the woodland floor.
You see, I have a plan
of shutting myself away
from the reality that is the world
and the sight of it decay.
Here in the safety
of letters and ink,
I can finally breath fresh air
and think.