Reina
Hermosa.
Suffer
are my lungs,
Devoid
of the wind of her,
The
shape of some lines,
A
golden syrup on my tongue.
By
lofty mountain springs,
Her
source and mine,
Combine
in one perfect love,
Blown
by regal brighter smiles.
Queen
for an era,
And
never lost but mislaid,
A
time beat pauses in fury,
Whilst
she recovers my sword.
Thrust
into her body,
My
light is the essence told,
She
shall seek till I'd hold,
All
that glitters, her gold.
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