Labels:text | screenshot OCR: The Country Store The room is filled abundantly. Twwefth Knight The items lay upon the shelves. BL/|DE Lit Though some ornate and some simple 8-25-94 All draw attention to themselves. The notes of a philosopher, An artist's work, a writer's page, Some ancient texts of time long gone, A game made by an unnamed sage. And at the center of the room There is a single frozen rose. Though brittle its cold form dost seem Wounds from its thorns do never close. And as this country store you leave, And pass the silver and black man, The only thoughts that you can think Are to return to here again.
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