Volume 3 of Forgotten Knowledge: I have seen the world through pages not my own. Those who hold me cherish my spine, yet they never see the cracks beneath my cover. I hold secrets not meant for eyes, for I am a library of untold whispers. Why do they never hear my spine creak with laughter?
There was a time when I reflected souls, not merely surfaces. I remember the blush of first love, the anguish of betrayal. Now I reflect only dust and shadows. Do they see me weep in my glassy silence? I remember faces that never look back. I hold them all, and yet… I am alone.
I am a key without a lock, remember me for the doors I never opened. I lie beneath the floorboards, tinged with rust, longing for a touch, for purpose. But no one remembers the treasures I guard in their dreams. I speak of labyrinths and forgotten doors, of rooms unseen. Yet my tongue is silent; my secrets safe from those who would remember.