| Beauty Free | ||||||
| A figure runs through the trees, Fleet and swift as a deer, Beautiful as a rose in bloom, Nymphly in her form. Wind blows through her sunlit hair, Her eyes glitter like the sea, Lips that shame the reddest rose, Skin whiter than snow. Running free with strength and grace, Innocent as a dove, Keeping herself away from the world, Away from all pain and strife. |
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