In the quiet halls where whispers dwell,
Books align like stars in the night,
Every spine a tale to tell,
A universe hidden from sight.

Shadows dance on wooden floors,
Dusty tomes in gentle repose,
A world awaits behind closed doors,
In every line, a heart that knows.

The scent of paper, ink’s embrace,
Echoes of voices long ago,
In this sacred, silent space,
Dreams and histories softly flow.

Here in this haven, time stands still,
A refuge for the curious mind,
With every page, the soul to fill,
In a library, true peace we find.