That Which Is Old

When you are done with this gripping hold,
If you ever want to find that which is old,
Just take the time to gently unfold,
You may find that the creases have turned to gold,
New chapters can be written in bold,
Or let go of it all that is here again told,
But it'll never be truly sold,
Time will beat us to the mould,
Moving ahead only gets cold,

If you ever want to find that which is old, do it,
for you'll find everything you want to hold, be told and warmth for the cold.