A book in hand in spite of the noise

Amid the most dizzying of noises
I feel reluctant but not bothered
For on my palm rests varying choices
And despite tumultuous voices, I wandered

My ears were calmed with every ink
And time seemed too slow to even blink.
With every word, a place brand new;
Soil only stepped on by the bare few

To find beauty in the grittiest places,
To travel afar and across the sea,
I'm glad of the noise and all the hazes
For they give me reason to ardently flee