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Ode to a Bookend

 Now the lion roars in silence
 Haunting phrases bound in covers,
 Mane on paws unsharpened resting,
 Stoic stillness never broken.
 Solidly he lies in waiting,
 Words unseeing, deaf to meaning,
 Yet in majesty he lives,
 Bringing joy to one who watches.
 Will that one the words uncover,
 Will the lessons he discover,
 Or will he, lion-like, live on 
 In ignorance of life and love? 
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