.

In the white heart of antique towers and walls,

Where echoes of ambition rise and fall.

Beneath the shadowed ancient trees,

Our laughter dances with the breeze.

Professors weave their tales of lores,

While students seek and yearn for more.

Arrupe library, a quiet sea,

Where whispered thoughts and worries flee.

Between the pages and the ink,

I grapple with the thoughts I think!

It was a boring class,

I scribble on the desk for a timepass.

And I turned around in the middle,

Every student started to scribble;

Some scribble the countdown

To hear the bell sound;

Some scribble their fantasy,

I could hear the art's melody.

Everyone is waiting for the bell ring,

Suddenly the bell goes like 'ting ding!'

Lecturer shocked! Students smiled!