Juncture

Child of the noble one
Of thee I must a sonnet write
For your beauty shines as the sun
And I partake in second sight.
Sadly you know me not
But through forlorn letters ne’er sent
Yet there is much I could have taught
Your fleeting youth has all been spent.
Of lost memories I can tell
Tales of war, battle, and blood
Sit with me, stay a spell
As I let loose a mighty flood.
I hold in hand a morning dove
A symbol of peace, friendship, and love.

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