The Library At The End Of The World Poem by Mark Sauer

The library at the end of the world -
Where once more poetry of dead tongues sings,
Risen from silence; where forgotten curled
Scrolls are cherished (for alone of all things
Beauty is conserved from entropy):
There Alexandria's wafted soot
Is condensed reborn to fresh papyri,
There lost histories and epics are put
Rebound upon the waiting shelves, perused
By reverent souls; there every vanished book
Is found, and all that sages ever mused
Is ripe and free. Wandering those aisles, look
For me in paradise, and together
Let us read, and learn, and grow, forever.