Mythofang

Wrought my heart of sorrow pure, of fate's play with irony bound, for lonliness my only companion be, and for long heard not that godly sound, the sounds of joy and that too pure for thine voice to my heart be joy abound, from this sepered my heart be, and thus in sorrow dwells in me.  

Sleep doth shut mighty appolo's eyes, thus moon in his realm doth prance, with thrill and joy full well abound, she beamed with power to trance, her radiant joy did burn to glow, and embrace my friends with grace, to traverse the dreamy moonlit lands, she lulls them asleep with a glance.