The Good Book

You sat with a book and read;
The rest of the world was dead.
It glowed and flamed on your lap
While everything else took a nap.

The hero was thoughtful and strong;
He overcame all that was wrong.
You went with him, saw what he saw,
His will was as your will, a law.

He strode toward his purpose supreme
And you were the blade of his dream.
All evil he cut down and slew,
Alive in the spirit of you.

The heroine gives her command;
He takes—and you kiss– her smooth hand.
Now off to her castle he flies,
While you look straight through her eyes.

The trumpets of triumph are blown
And you set lips to your own.
The last page turned, it’s the end;
You know that you won’t bend.

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