Within realms of raven's wings, and starlit skies,
There darkness falls with velvet, soothing sighs.
Harken to a mystic murmur, surely from below,
A whispered echo, born of distant dreams, to know.
The world becomes this canvas, woven in shades of grey,
Thereupon lies fading embers, losing all that dying day.

Yet, even from abysmal depths, of night’s obsidian heart,
A flicker stirs within me, a brand new world to start.
By rising light above, golden, pure, and bright,
A beacon borne, out of dawn’s ethereal sight.
So mythic music whispers, melodies unfold,
Tales untold, I listen, in rhythms warm and bold.

And ever shall I, in deed, with reverent heart,
Remember weeping whence, the muses did depart.
The roots of my inspiration, deepened that...