In the cradle of ancient tomes,
Where whispers of ink softly roam,
Stories etched in gentle grace,
Dance through time and endless space.

Beneath the moon’s silken glow,
Words unfurl, tales bestow,
A symphony of voices past,
In every line, a shadow cast.

Each page a world, a dream unfurled,
Where heroes rise and love is swirled,
In the quiet rustle of turning leaves,
A tapestry of life one believes.

Literature’s embrace, a timeless art,
Binding souls, heart to heart,
In whispered prose, our spirits find,
A universe of the unconfined.