Mount Canterlot · 6:08pm Sep 5th, 2018
A book was found,
behind, beneath,
the shelves of mine,
to me, bequeathed.
Upon them sat,
my stories told,
so many lost,
both young and old.
But this one, new -
apparent age.
So old it was,
on inner page.
It's title, blocked,
in stranger verse,
in unknown words,
meaning dispersed.
I grabbed it soft,
in magic held,
with horn alit,
its words it tell'd.
I read it then,
I flipped it through,
Its pages turned,
each one so new.
I read of old,
of Canterlot,