Blakean, the Myth, *

Whence Hand writing on paper,
I find afloat, in the sweet breezy eve,
Coming to me, like a love song,
Thou be come my Creator,
i, only search synergy,
In Your rough draft,
Fountain of Yours
Flowing unbotched,
Art thou hath such a splendid form,
How Tyger hath Thou find in Lamb,
And Lamb, in Tyger, burning Bright
In the forests of the Night,

O how i go, follow,
Thy hand, writing draft,
Thy Myth, The Urizen, The Los,
All put under Sheer Poesy
So Truthfully Wrought,

Beauty, Innocent You,
The Lover of Poesy
And Woodcarver True,
How hath made me wood,
Touché,

Can only little i
Take a kneeling
At thy feet,
Holy Thou,
Whence You
Take me to
Love Divine
Unleashed.

(*Note: The picture attached is the part of the draft, of 'The Songs of Innocence and Experience', an anthology of poems, written by William Blake. Blake followed The Holy Bible and then created His own Myth out of it, bringing the Idea of Los, Urizen, etc.)