She was nothing more than a pretty face,
Just like a million other pretty faces.
As a bunch of roses in an earthen vase
That no bee can spot which one is sweetest.
Everyday I stayed by her eyes' corner,
Nearer by the day on the same pattern.
Though both of us had no need of each other,
There formed a bond I began to discern.
Now souls bound, from each other, must depart;
Those memories with my rose I shall keep.
Of all faces only one marks the heart,
Every thought of her makes worthless a weep.
I believe the fox was right after all:
Only Heart can see where Eye does fall.
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