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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Romance/Love · #908465
A mortal bitterly realizing the god she's always wanted isn't what she thought.
Your golden skin is blinding,
and your hair is soft and short.
Your kisses are so binding,
and your lips taste of port.

You shine gold, my Apollo,
and your power is there for all to see.
You shine gold, my Apollo,
but your golden light blinds me.

Your arms are muscled and so strong,
and you run as fast as the wind.
What you say can never be wrong,
and your will cannot bend.

You shine gold, my Apollo,
and every woman loves you.
You shine gold, my Apollo,
but you love yourself too.

Your voice is perfect like your face,
and you're the handsomest of men.
You undoubtedly have unsurpassed grace,
and your loving is a sin.

You shine gold, my Apollo,
we all swoon at your nod.
You shine gold, my Apollo,
but I'm a mortal and you're a god.

You were never mine,
but I loved you anyway.
And the gods help those who didn't,
for they surely had to pay.

You shine gold, my Apollo,
but my eyes are now open and cruel.
You shine gold, my Apollo,
but you only blind the fool.

Your hands are tainted from all they've done,
and your soul has surely fled.
You shine as bright as a nighttime sun,
and your heart, if you have one, is dead.

You shine gold, my Apollo,
but the gold is rather faded.
You shine gold, my Apollo,
but gold is overrated.
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