In halls where whispers waltz with grace,
The echoes of a time untouched by haste,
Marble pillars stand, guardians of the past,
In their shadows, stories forever cast.

Melodies of lyres weave through the air,
A tapestry of sound, rich and rare,
Voices of the ancients, a timeless choir,
Singing of dreams and desires that never tire.

Statues frozen in eternal poise,
Silent witnesses to the world’s noise,
Their eyes have seen the rise and fall,
In their silence, they tell it all.

In the gardens where philosophers pondered,
Wisdom like rivers gently wandered,
Each thought a ripple in the vast sea,
Of knowledge, of truth, of what is to be.