Apollo's wheel arcs the eastern sky I once knew.
He threatens to spoil your kingdom's garden of dew.
Late I descended to prove sights, not sweat,
Clinging, doused in the laughter of teasing wet,
Limestone crags. Passing your pulse on plated rock slabs
A magical surge as my first toe touched, Mab stabs.
This eye tears seeing Fey fainne* all golden
Mist framing the Iyllhun pool. Your face bowled in,
Shadowed by the heights I've descended -- cave-pitch eyes.
Crossing jade curls lacks all that your sultry fount supplies.
Love holds me at your dais, monarch o'sound and spray.
Captive to your crystalline veil; I'll not leave you upon day.
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