In the silent halls where shadows dance,
Whispering tomes hold stories vast,
Bound in leather, worn by chance,
Each page a portal to the past.

Beneath the moon’s soft silver glow,
Words weave spells of yesteryear,
Echoes of voices long ago,
In every line, a vision clear.

The ink breathes life, the paper sings,
Of heroes, quests, and love’s embrace,
A treasury of forgotten kings,
In every tale, a timeless grace.

So wander through these ancient lands,
With open heart and open mind,
For in the grasp of written hands,
New worlds and dreams you’ll surely find.