Mine Heiress

May 27, 2012
'Tis a shame I love thee, wherefore art thou scarred
By thine own heart marred by Venus' marred mark?
Morrow rests on golden blooms of grey skies
I ask thee, wherefore dost thou see demise?
Marry, Aurora bless thee with bright grace
So thou hast no law that states dark placed fate
Nay, thou art heaven's hazel skinned cherub
Fair maiden nonpareil made of syrup
Pray tell and I may plant a honey kiss
Diana's aim fit my lips, I shan't miss





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