In the quiet corners of a dusty room,
Lie the whispers of tales untold,
Pages yellowed by the breath of time,
In their silence, secrets unfold.

The inked whispers call my name,
Through realms of fantasy and lore,
Each word a brushstroke on my soul,
Painting dreams I can’t ignore.

Characters dance in the moonlit night,
Their voices echo through the hall,
In the symphony of written words,
I find solace in their call.

A journey through each turning leaf,
Where worlds collide and hearts unite,
In the tapestry of literature,
I lose myself, and find my light.