In dreams, he wandered through ethereal light,
A visionary with a heart so bright.
His words, a tapestry of heaven and night,
Weaving tales of angels in their flight.

With eyes that saw beyond mortal sight,
He painted realms where shadows fight.
His pen, a beacon in the darkest plight,
Guiding souls to realms of pure delight.

In innocence and experience, he found his muse,
Crafting worlds where spirits choose.
His art, a portal where imagination brews,
Whispering truths in a world so confused.

Oh, Blake, your legacy does not fade,
For in your lines, eternity is laid.
A poet, a prophet, your spirit displayed,
Forever in the hearts of those you’ve swayed.