Answer: (inspired by the inspirational Nat)
(edited version)
Her world is made up of pages,
But no one would dare to look,
Is she really there,
Hidden between stacks of books,
In the corner,
Isolated,
And when you look closer,
Her face is a blur,
Living on ink and paper.
She is her own maker,
Life not of war,
Nor peace,
And no where in between.
She doesn't mind that her books,
Ink and Paper,
Are her only true friends.
