Come to me sweet words of rhyme,
Take my hands and carry me
Pon’ the wings of melody
To space and time sublime.

Put all of my fears in chains,
Take me to the land of thoughts,
Where there are no schemes or plots,
Only green Elysian plains.

Purify my words impure,
Make them serve their meaning well,
Let them speak what I foretell
When all darkness I abjure.

Shout them out with odes of pain
When the drops of ancient sorrow
Echo that there’s no tomorrow
As they fall like velvet rain.

But what shall become of me?
Can I still escape my fate,
Or perhaps it is too late
To renounce my poetry?

Distant songs of faded dreams
Taint the sadness of my ear
And I tremble at the fear
They’re forever lost, it seems...