Tis the wakeing dawn, 
And i feel the sky is just beyond, 
My reach, For she is my heaven,
This be a truth not spun from eden, 
For it was there in her arms i found my lordly beginning,
And instead of always pining, 
Over long forgotten findings,
A suitable solution, 
Presented itself unto me, 
And the lord braced upon my mortal plights twas my muse he belay to me, 
This precious fare sculpted woman, 
From the jaws of Acheron, And pearled gates lofty child,
An angel he bore upon me, quite fascinating and wild, 
Oh what beautiful idolatry she did wax across my chains, 
Which once lagged the motions of my wheel with much pain,
With steely prowess she tore asunder, 
My titan chains with such a shatter, 
Then gifted me a godly life from which to work wonders, 
And she my golden stallion doth drape around me often, 
And gives to me affection no normal mate could offer, 
With voice like a thousand harmonious strings,
Doth lavish me with wonderous songs, 
For simply speaking to me, she sings.