In the quiet embrace of towering tomes,
Where whispers of wisdom softly roam,
Pages flutter like wings in flight,
Guiding lost souls through endless night.

Each book a beacon, a guiding star,
Stories of distant lands, both near and far,
In silent corners, dreams are spun,
Threads of time in a woven sun.

The scent of paper, a gentle muse,
Inviting minds to wander and choose,
In the heart of this sanctuary vast,
Echoes of the future blend with the past.

Here, the soul finds its gentle rest,
In tales of love, in quests confessed,
A library’s heart beats soft and slow,
A haven where endless wonders grow.