You, my love, are the definition of my happiness. Envy grows on the surrounding trees, but your deep brown eyes are the only ones I seek. You light the way through my heart, showing me
the way, teaching me the way, loving me away so far that even existence is jealous of our love.
You speak of great beauty, dear fair lady of mine. How can you speak of me in such great terms as you? This goodness in which you speak of me is only a fraction of your great glory. You
persue life on Earth, hunger in the heavens. The angels you speak of are none but your family, proud to show you to the world, and yet envious of such a being. You are life, with you, the world
spins, wheels turn, and the wind howls your great name into the blue skies.
Daughter if Aphrodite, your heartbeat fills my lungs more than mere air. The passion of heat between rises further than eagles sore, deeper than in the forests of the night. I would
seize the fire for your heart, and yet your heart will burn me more than fire. You are my tyger burning bright. In our games of love, you are my queen of hearts, and I am your willing servant,
anything you wish, my dear, anything you want or fear, my hand will be there, still burning from your divine heart. If we were ripped apart, I would not cry a river. I would not write a letter. For
you: Venus, I would tear apart the oceans, even shed Athena's blood till I find your poor soul weeping. And if this does not bring back your love for me, I would repeat all my faults ten times
over, just to see you smile again.
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