#UnopenedPageIn twilight halls of learning's keep,
A sentinel of wisdom lies asleep,
Forgotten tome, with pages gray,
Dusty relic of a bygone day.

Once cherished, now cast aside,
This book yearns for a reader's tide,
To stir its words, to breathe its fire,
And fan the flames of heart's desire.

Its leather cover, cracked and worn,
Conceals the tales of lives unborn,
The whispers of a thousand minds,
Echoes of a bygone era's finds.

In yellowed pages, thoughts lie still,
Awaiting eyes to revive their thrill,
The musty scent of age and time,
Wafts secrets, like a forgotten rhyme.

Oh, for the touch of human hand,
To feel the weight of curious stand,
To hear the rustle of its leaves,
As knowledge and imagination breathe.

In darkness, it awaits the light,
A patient guardian of the night,
A keeper of the tales untold,
A long-forgotten book, growing old.

But still it holds on to its dream,
To be rediscovered, to beam,
With words that dance, and stories spun,
And in a reader's heart, be won.