In golden hues of amber’s radiant grace,
A tale unfolds, where love finds its embrace.
A color born from Sol’s celestial might,
Shall weave its threads through lovers’ hearts this night.
Behold! A lion, noble king of pride,
With fiery mane, his spirit cannot hide.
His roar resounds, a symphony of might,
Yet gentleness resides within his sight.
An object rare, a quill of feathered flight,
That spills its ink, revealing love’s pure light.
With every stroke, their story shall unfold,
In words that dance, a tale to be retold.
Two men entwined, their souls forever bound,
In clandestine love, their passion knows no bound.
Society may scorn, but love prevails,
As whispers of their truth ride on the gales.
For love knows naught of color, shape, or kind,
It soars above the judgments of mankind.
So let this sonnet sing of love’s sweet grace,
In colors, creatures, objects we embrace.
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