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She - A sonnet
She
How can she change when she is perfectly
Unflawed as mornings crisp before the dawn,
Where hidden birds let go their ballads, free
To taste the wind of weary winter gone.
How can she leave when her departing fuels
The flames that rend the life from blesséd skies,
And leaves me to the wrath of angry swells,
Engulfed by wraiths of blacken'd sea disguise.
How can she fade when I so steadfast try
To halt the ocean shifting forward tides,
For through my eyes she lacking wings can fly,
An ageless hawk above the rest she glides.
How bittersweet a maiden she can be,
Reviving sight but leaving blinded me.
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