The hymn to dreamed dawn

You are such Apollo in eternal bliss, so dreamful.

Your twilight under celestial moon is the hereafter.

You are an embracing of the rainbow, drawn by the bard.

Your amaranthine, tender whisper belongs to the lord.

You fly into the moony dreamery full of fancy.

Your august, cute, dazzling paradise is like poetry.

You seem to be gentle such a zeus-like dew at tender morns.

Your ontology is a plethora of Morningstars.

You was read such booklet with softly written mysteries.

Your amazing, dawn-like wings – drunken of the bewitchment.

You stay as stones of sempiternity of meek feelings.

Your beauty is not torn such an enchanted Golden Fleece.

You are Apollo’s greenery in temple of light naiads.

Your way into fullness is the treasure of some dryads.

You are mythos, born from the purest eschatology.

Your songs of lotus are traces of epistemology.

You daydreamt about the eudemonia of starry gods.

Your ephemeral ballads are thoughts of dew and  goddess.

You are throne in temple, it is like the crucial dusk – moonlit.

Your sunglow and great moonshine have mayhap gold of the tears.

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