Bold blue eyes
Colored like the skies
In which she flies
(Gravity, she defies)
Away from the sad sighs.
Glittering gold scales
That will be told in tales
From mail to sails
To the masses in jails.
Blazing hot breath
That gives white death
Leaving nothing left
But the rare survivors bereft.
But these can't compare
To the way she could care
So much, almost to much to bear
But for her, it's natural as breathing air.
What makes her so beloved
Is her gentle love
Sweeter than a dove
A true gift from above.
Just something to practice rhyming with, based off a little idea I had the other day.
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