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The study

Updated on November 7, 2011

The air was still, silent; around the stygian space

There flickers the candlelight, the only source of warmth,

Emboldening the student to set his eyes upon the words

Printed on dozens of books that add pressure to his table.

Late it was, the clock had struck midnight,

But the student kept on lucubrating, flipping the pages

Ad infinitum, as the sound of rustling, dogeared sheets

Made up the only fleeting tone at this impelling time.

As time passed, his vision blurred,

He could only made himself closer to the books,

As if they were his kiss of life, the wellspring of glory

That he would show, tomorrow, as he penned his words on paper.

Facts, diagrams, suggested answers and reminders

Were culled from the words and cached in his memory,

Serving as a chemical fount that he could search for answers,

Just like a library inside his skull.


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    • jaswinder64 profile image

      jaswinder64 5 years ago from Toronto, Canada.

      Beautiful poem, and thanks for following me.