Shadows in Ink

(Verse 1) In the margins of a dusty, leather-bound tome, Where whispers of Shelley stir the air, Each word a shadow, each line a home, To lost souls seeking solace in despair. (Chorus) We write, we read, as echoes of Poe, Through catacombs of verse we roam, A raven's cry in midnight's throes, In ink-stained pages, we find our home. (Verse 2) By candlelight, where Austen dreams, Of balls and bittersweet romances, Each character with their own schemes, In scripted dances, love advances. (Chorus) We write, we read, as echoes of Poe, Through catacombs of verse we roam, A raven's cry in midnight's throes, In ink-stained pages, we find our home. (Bridge) Orwell's eyes, from pages peer, A future told, now all too clear, In his world, we see our own, Words a mirror, truth is shown. (Verse 3) Through Whitman’s leaves, we wander wide, Each grass blade a universe, His open road, our guide, In verse we live, for better or worse. (Chorus) We write, we read, as echoes of Poe, Through catacombs of verse we roam, A raven's cry in midnight's throes, In ink-stained pages, we find our home. (Outro) So here we lay our final scene, With Dickens' ghosts and Brontë’s moors, In books, we live, in pages glean, Eternal tales that (Outro) So here we lay our final scene, With Dickens' ghosts and Brontë’s moors, In books, we live, in pages glean, Eternal tales that time ensures.