Ink Stained Dreams
In the hush of the library, time stands still,
Shelves rise like trees on a quiet hill.
Pages whisper secrets, soft and wise,
Where passion sleeps, yet never dies.
A labyrinth of thought, both old and new,
In every corner, stories break through.
Ink-stained...
Shelves rise like trees on a quiet hill.
Pages whisper secrets, soft and wise,
Where passion sleeps, yet never dies.
A labyrinth of thought, both old and new,
In every corner, stories break through.
Ink-stained...