Mary Shelley cherished a love of infinity
Indwelling in the very heart of humanity
Exposing soul to light’s precious scrutiny
Dancing on the cusp of sublime anarchy

A song that sang itself unto that eternity
Beyond the fragile touch of mere mortality
Unfolding unheard sounds of her divinity
Unconcealed in the music of her beauty

The future flaunts its precocious vanity
The past remains ensconced in misery
The latter chains itself to broken history
The Prometheus dreams of future liberty
Her one remains our blessed sanctuary
Of hope filled dreams of loving charity.