In golden hue, the sun doth shyly rise,
A color rare, like amber in the skies.
And in this realm, where love doth intertwine,
Two men entwined, their hearts forever bind.
A lion roams, majestic in his grace,
His mane a crown, a symbol of his place.
A creature fierce, yet gentle in his might,
His presence bold, a beacon in the night.
A quill, a tool, a vessel for the soul,
A poet’s craft, his stories to unfold.
With ink-stained hands, he writes a tale so true,
Of love so pure, between the chosen two.
Two men, united, bound by sacred vows,
Their love, a flame, that never shall arouse.
In secret chambers, they find solace there,
A love forbidden, yet they do not care.
For color, animal, and object blend,
With love, a story, that shall never end.
In Shakespeare’s verse, their tale forever told,
Two men, entwined, a love that shall unfold.
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