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Ink and Imagination Ephemera

In the heart of the city, where stories unfurl, Stands a bookstore, my haven in a whirl. Shelves adorned with tales that swirl, Each book a treasure, each page a pearl. I, the guardian of this literary domain, With quill in hand and a passion unfeigned, Delve into worlds where imagination reigns, Weaving stories that dance and entertain. One day, amidst the stacks, I found, A book of wonder, its secrets unbound. Bound in leather, with pages round, "The Book of Endless Stories" it crowned. Curious and eager, I opened the tome, To find blank pages, an author's home. With each stroke of my pen, I'd roam, In worlds of adventure, all my own. Heroes and villains, love and strife, Sprang from the pages, into real life. The city transformed, no longer rife, With monotony, but with stories rife. Through ink and paper, I wielded might, Shaping worlds in the day and the night. With every word, I brought forth light, To banish darkness, to set things right. And so, in the heart of the city, I reign, A storyteller, unbound by chain. In my bookstore, where dreams attain, Their fullest form, free from restrain.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2024




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