Your skin, a silver sheen, your hair, spun gold,
You, the sole rich one, a story to be told.
The path you tread, where petals softly bloom,
Your gentle steps awaken fate's deep tomb.
The stones you touch, they shimmer, diamond bright,
And those who find you, bask in endless light.
You, the sole rich one, while others fade and fall,
Your skin, a silver sheen, embracing all.
Upon the plain, a canvas, stark and bare,
They paint their hues, beyond compare.
Unknowing, you, of forms they seek to steal,
Eyes feast on beauty, secrets they reveal.
Oh, queen of grace, your veil a subtle art,
You, the sole rich one, a treasure to the heart.
Your skin, a silver sheen, your hair, spun gold,
You, the sole rich one, a story to be told.
Your skin, a silver sheen, your hair, spun gold,
You, the sole rich one, a story to be told.
You, the sole rich one, a story to be told.
You, the sole rich one, a story to be told.
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