In halls of wisdom, echoes call,
Where dreams awaken from the dust.
The books, like ancient trees, stand tall,
Their roots in knowledge we entrust.
Through pages worn, we seek the light,
A beacon in the darkest night.
The pen, a sword, in battles fought,
With every lesson, wisdom’s brought.
The teacher’s voice, a gentle guide,
Unveiling worlds in which we hide.
With open hearts, we dare to see,
The endless possibilities.
So let us journey, hand in hand,
Through lands of thought and dreams so grand.
In education’s warm embrace,
We find our path, our rightful place.