Riveting Ruckus, Wonder of the night, Darling by day, My True delight,
Maestro of Words, Weaver of dreams, Pregnant with majesty, Birthing my screams.
Riding it high, Gallant with speed, Pulsing and throbbing, Poured forth on bronze steed.
Sword in hand, You paving the path, At Thundering waters, You'll Toss your wrath.
A penny a thought, Two cents perhaps? Writing a storyOf time now gone lapse?