I wrung the water from my clothing

When I found the Brightglass Archives

A place to dry my head and toes

Just perhaps lured by the windows

Which had named the Brightglass Archives

They were kinder suns, watching over me

Or a call seeking those who roam

There was once a jealous scholar

One who chose the Brightglass Archives

To keep his hoard of priceless scrolls

Thus he hid how he was jealous

Though he feared the Brightglass Archives

Could somehow make his studies meaningless

Were they to be more widely known

A faded floor plan hid a staircase

High above the Brightglass Archives

I climbed and found a mound of notes

All meticulous instructions

How to use the Brightglass Archives

“It’s a real shame nobody read a thing,”

Said the architect, or her bones

The tide rose higher in the evening

To deluge the Brightglass Archives

Washing the words from all their tomes

There came no-one with an inkling

How to save the Brightglass Archives

So I pulled up my clothes as I waded out

And I decided to go home

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