Entire lives encircle Sol believing that the ancient gods are a fiction.
These joyless sacks of empty flesh have never been graced with a moment in your presence. In that instant, all doubt is dispelled, for at your birth the Muses crafted their ultimate blessing to us mortals.
You embody the inspiration of Polyhymnia, Erato, and Calliope;
sacred, epic, love poetry flows unbidden from even the most
leaden of souls when you are near.
Dreams of grand comedies, heroic tragedies, and monumental
histories spring forth in you wake; each worthy of the pens of
Thalia, Melpomene, and Clio.
Your every sound and step cause Euterpe and Terpsichore to glow
with pride.
But possibly the most magnificent caress cam from Urania; for you,
my Love, are the incarnation of the naked stars in all their
infinite beauty, enshrined on this unworthy Earth.
I wish I could let her know I still ... everything.
Pretty much sums up why I started writing in the first place. It was so much easier with her in my life.
