Lord Byron

Lord Byron,

Why did we have to treat you that way?

For you have never plotted to hurt me?

For you, our greatest admirer deserve;

Many more thanks, How can they be 

so cold during the theft and curse of Minerva? How have they forgotten the strength that you showed to us or the burdens you shoulderd for us? 

Why are they retreating and running away?

How many poets are warrior and would lay their own life? You are in league of their own! And I do owe you my life! Lord Byron, you have given The Hellenes all of your time. And I am grateful for you! You great masterful romantic that romanticized everything you ever felt in your heart in the pupil of your eye. You shared your feelings of the atrocities that were plaguing your very own time. You are much better than me. Than what I do! Thank you for taking the time for fighting for the Greeks. And giving your life to us and for us and for you felt in your heart and mind. What you felt through your quill and ink is music to me.

And an idealist love almost a study in how the heart and mind are assembled and work in a give and take fashion or method.

You're work is brilliance. And radiant.

You will glow and shine like the Master you are for much throughout time.

Sincerely an adoring foolish moron and idiot that merely writes rhymes.