#116645 - THE BIRTH OF A PRINCESS As the sun slowly sets, she will awaken She looks about her and her new life has her shaken She visits the mirror, not knowing the site She's never seen her skin so creamy white Bringing her fingers to her lips which have become the color of red wine She remembers her rendezvous with in the ivy vine She is taken back when she notices her fingers and nails This only happens, she thought, In stories and tales The kind with moon drenched creatures And now she bore their features That man.
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