They, who are beautiful-
the silver streaks of lightning upon a velvet sky.
They, who are beautiful-
purple, rising as a mountain's edge lifts upon high.
They, who are beautiful-
their beauty exists only in my eyes.
They, who are beautiful-
the once-flowing rivers now run dry.
They, who are beautiful-
shimmering, they somehow always catch the eye.
They, who are beautiful-
they provide the wings that let me fly.

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