There, across the river from me
Hidden in a shadow all her own
Eyes blue as the river deep, beautious; she
And inspire me, she had done

And she had begun a Renaissonce
And inspired all; one by one
A muse of faith and tranquility
And the darkest of saints, Serenity

Ere the darkest flower bloom
Over decay of flower which lay once before
She walks the night, touched with phases of moon
Ethereal, she speaks of something more

Within her hours inside a dark room spent
Of either important or broken things, though she finds sacred
She creates her true art of passion's intent
Through her own thoughst of inspiration

And across the river she was from me
Dark and sweet Serenity, so beautious; she.
My thoughts screamed, aspiring to be far away from imagination
As she had begun a Renaissonce of my own inspiration