Words Left Unturned

A dusty novel lies lonely in the dark,

a whisper of stories, the last tender spark.

I found it while searching through memories past,

a friendship once vibrant, now shadows are cast.

Someone asked me what book had once made me whole,

I faltered, I stammered, my heart lost in soul.

The pages are brittle, like bones left to weep,

my mind overrun, yet my passions asleep.