I'm not a candle burning out, flickering in the night
Not a flash that briefly shines, then quickly fades from sight
Others chase the fiery blaze, reaching for the sky
But I don't seek that fleeting light, I build my shelves up high
In my little library, I'm filling shelf by shelf
Each day a new story grows, reflecting parts of myself
No need for roaring glory, or the spotlight's blinding beam
Just the quiet, simple pages, filling shelves with my dreams
Some dream to be like Sisyphus, with his endless uphill fight
Or a phoenix rising from the flames, reborn in burning light
But I'm not chasing legends or sparks that quickly die
I'm filling my own shelves, with books where my truth lies
In the quiet of my space, I watch the stories grow
Each book a piece of who I am, my life begins to show
As the years keep passing by, my shelves will tell my tale
In the silence of my little room, filling the shelves without fail
In my little library, where my heart and soul reside
Each book a mark of who I am, a story I can't hide
No need for grand illusions or the world's applause to see
For in my steady growth, filling the shelves sets me free