From a certain travel

The sun is beginning to inch,
unwillingly toward the door.
As the first hesitant beam approached the threshhold,
the peace was shattered.
The griffins, then, set the task ahead of them,
that they must pick up the peices.
Papers were strewn about the room,
covering every inch of floor space,
and the griffins were the only ones
to survive the brutal book attack.
And the dying sun peeked in,
promising to return,
sending the mon and a legion of stars to watch in it's stead.

-Baueradley