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I didn't know what I was looking for when I stumbled into sight of his glowing, bright eyes. He was a beauty unlike any other and I loved him, knowing his affections were lies.
I was bewitched by his words; entranced by attraction. Like an artist that saw a new colour bleed into our dimension.
When he sang his voice drew lights out of the forest to dance, and he overtook my mind with his beguiling glance. O, Mountains can you sing as beautiful as he? And, Oceans, by what means would you encapture me?
The Sun could not warm my heart of thoroughly as he, but at the setting of both all the colder I would be. O, Darkness, I beg you to hide my bitter tears, as I fall prey to the weight of many troubled years. Surely I am lost in the cold without a fire; wading my heart through road made of mire.
Come and gone was my precious stardust. Swept away by another object of lust. But what should I expect from beautiful so blessedly pure? Tis' destined to be my poison, not cure.
A tragedy yet to be spoken, which I dare say is worse, to be beguiled again: that is my curse. For Stardust, though rare, often finds my heart; then is wisped away by the wind; rends my soul apart.