Magical words in precious ink
A golden quill in hand
From depths of hearts bubbling forth
And none describes her scent
Enchanting melodies composed in love
On harps of silver strings
Brought to life and set free on a wing
And the notes are flat in her presence
Ten thousand subjects adore
A king from distant Times
Treasures beyond compare and measure
Yet a pauper is he without her
There in the faintest of spilled starlights
Sitting near a pool of glass
She combs her hair and steals his soul
His heart is hers forever
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