A request

Once upon a quarter of streaming nuances,

There I saw you.

Some say you are the reign of such muses.

A reina of muses themselves.

A drama or two under the helm of modernization and adapted in so many ways than one.

Yet one thing remain,

the last of the last consort of such excerpts before you utter the name under the guise of your beloved Onieros.

A heart beat skipped,

A name I knew,

A name often times I pity.

His efforts were the lamentations of all heavy metal disdain from then and now.

Mighty Caliope,

I am dumbfounded,

I am your servant.

Such request yet again,

but this time I may be a little preoccupied.

For the great muses of old and new,

comes the modernizations of things anew from the old once Luke did slew

a words from his own passage.

The olde is not new,

all new things will be old again in time.

But you know how to,

If one ask only to be a servant of Orpheus' goodness,

not a wailing woeful emo of a kid before his utter demise,

on the gutter of river of dreams arise.