Trove Of Discovery

What if we tore each page - letter by letter - making it worthless and obscene. What if we don't need to destroy the pages, to burn it's worth.

Wouldn't it be worthwhile, to freely surpass any plane in the sky, and dive under the deepest trenches. Would it be so worthwhile, if everything we ever did, was only to be seen worthless; Yes, worthless, in fact it has no purpose at all. 

A book is a trove of discovery, each gleaming page is a place of breathtaking scenery. Painting what the writer sees, in the eyes of his audience. He connects the rainbow, with the golden pot in the end. 

Yet what if we never knew, what we've never known. That us, as a generation can't stand on it's own. That we are loosing the way the past has learned, and making it seem like we are all know-it-alls. 

We take for granted, the knowledge burned through a piece of paper. A cry, we would never yearn, or even just learn to know. We aren't destroying the book, but we destroy it's soul- to be read by many, and to be heard by all.

How can we?- A generation so smart, advanced and intelligent, be dumb enough to be dumbfounded?- It lies in our non-chalant ways, in our lack of empathy thereof. A distant disconnect, to the delirium we call the unknown.

We act as if we know everything, but when we sit and read, we listen; we listen to the words of knowledge, of growth, and of understanding. When we read, we become trees, ready to spread the paper, and create our own books. Chapter by chapter, we fill in the pages. We bruise the paper, by the ink of the pen. 

Knowledge begets knowledge, a wanderlust discovery, trapped in the four corners of a book. Let's burn the pages, but burn them through our minds.