The Book for All Time

The book was closed for so long,
All of the words just came out wrong.
Laying forgotten at the bottom of the pile,
Longing, desiring to be read all the while.
The cover so worn and ragged,
The pages torn and jagged.
Sitting on a shelf biding it's time,
Hoping one day the words would rhyme.
Knowing that soon someone might find,
That the words within matched the mind.

The book was worn, the pages torn,
Within it a KING was born.
The world within it's pages lie,
The truth and sin makes you cry.

Grasping the book and pulling it out,
From above arose a ghostly shout.
Within my hands I did know,
What happened in the world long ago.

Opening a page so worn and crumbly,
I read each word so meek and humbly.
A savior, a profit, an apostle, and saint,
My breath grew thin and my heart was faint.
Each word and passage so true and real,
Promising each of us a better deal.

With regret I finished reading,
Only then did I start back breathing.
As I laid it by my side,
To you I promise in my heart it resides.