Fair Maiden ye, hearken these words. Bethink thyself of them in dire straits.
Call me the larcener who longs for thy heed, for a slice of thy heart with passion and greed. Thy fiery mane glowing as cinder, And ivory skin alike eternal winter. It's peccant and foolish, yet do I wonder Why yearning for thee tares me asunder.
A marvel like thee can't elsewhere be found, no maiden alike, as fierce, strong and proud. Oh grant me a moment just to be nigh Thy beauty and presence that can't be denied. Just one loving touch from the heavens above. Thereunto shall i confess thee my love.
- End -
Anmerkung von Schwarzflamme:
Mein Versuch in altertümlichem, "shakespearian english" zu schreiben.
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