nothing lasts forever

Looking into the front room.
My eye falls upon a rifled treasure.
It is an antique tome telling the life of Joan of Ark.
It's a children's book but there are no really good adult tellings of Joan's story.
The book has been savaged.
Torn out pages adorn the table top.
Beaky Parrot looks up from his work and gives me a welcoming raukkkk.
"Beaky oh Beaky," I declaim, "oh feathery, chair poohing, curtain masticating Beaky, thou little knowest the damage thous hast done."
"Raukkkkkkkkkk," says Beaky.
It's almost as if he does know.