Phantom Scribe 

The echoes of what never was

No end for there was no beginning

A story that writes and rewrites itself

The author long forgotten

An open book on the table

But the text is unreadable

The language familiar

Yet no one understands

Open to interpretation

But having only one meaning

No title on the cover

Pages are falling apart

Scribbled words on every line

The paragraphs are undefined

In them both everything and nothing