Some say that the eyes are the windows of the soul,

Hers are as clear and intense as the deepest pool.

Dare I stare at them, before long possesses me

A desire so strong from which I cannot flee

Of diving in head first, fearless of my drowning.

In that wondrous gateway I see myself sovereign

A king by her own hand that she would be crowning,

Standing proud by her side under clear skies or rain.


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