In the quiet of the library’s embrace,Pages rustle with a gentle grace.Whispers of tales yet to unfold,Stories of new, and legends of old.
Underneath the moonlit night’s gentle gaze,Paper carries dreams in a delicate phrase.The ink flows like rivers through time,Crafting worlds in rhythm and rhyme.
In shadows cast by flickering light,Words dance on paper, taking flight.Each letter a star in the vast expanse,Inviting the reader to join in the dance.
And as dawn breaks with its golden hue,The paper rests, with stories anew.In every crease, in every line,Lies a universe waiting, divine.