Oh! The god who plays upon the lyre
May see the world burn upon a pyre.
Twisting verse and beauteous prose
For the, Intricacies of life, he knows.
Riddling and musing like in days of old
Awaiting the day for a poet to unfold,
Every mystery and forgotten tale.
There Apollo waits in verdant vale
With hair the color of molten sunlight
Stirring every man to delight
The image does not belong to me
![To Apollo-[C] Oh! The god who plays upon the lyre
[C]May see the world burn upon a pyre.
[C]Twisting verse and beauteous pros](https://image.staticox.com/?url=http%3A%2F%2Fpm1.aminoapps.vertvonline.info%2F9203%2F38feb928ef98dcc3a408ce4b22dc4e3c44c7ab2er1-1200-1200v2_hq.jpg)
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