The art they created
Reflected their world
Pristine beauty
As if offered upon an altar
They were inspired
To dream of gods and heroes
Lovers and lore
Longing only to lay
In Elysian fields
Upon furs and heather
Surrounded by soft grass and breezes
And the scent of lavender
Revealing their muse
For the listener and the scholar
Without pretense nor self awareness
No auditorium for the songs
No moment of knowing
Their words would last forever
