The poets of yore speak to me,
through their words I do gain inspiration.
Strange, that others can never understand their complexity.
Do I stand alone,
a stranger to the times in which I was born?
There must be others who understand, yet they are unknown.
Perhaps one day I shall sing,
and the tune of my thoughts shall spring forth.
The sounds be heard alike by peasant and by king.
The spirits of the old bard's,
the ancient skal's will surround me.
Propel my voice to the furthest of courtyards.
Others may hear,
they may even join in song.
A unified sound of such power, one may even shed a tear.
It is not for glory I do this,
fame is for those of a different make.
Simply so I may live in a world of harmonized bliss.
