In the hush of midnight’s gentle embrace,
A pen begins its silent dance,
Tracing dreams on paper’s face,
Inking thoughts with a fleeting glance.

Shadows stretch across the room,
As words flow like a river’s song,
The pen’s whisper dispels the gloom,
Crafting tales where they belong.

Each stroke a step on paths untold,
Secrets penned in lines of gold,
A journey through the writer’s soul,
Where imagination takes control.

When dawn breaks with gentle light,
The pen rests, its story spun,
Leaving echoes of the night,
Until the next adventure’s begun.