Trace the golden thread embroidered in thy robe of pride
Find the shadows of those once dwelt in daylight.
A stroke of yellow, a stroke of white
A gilt lily on blue silk reside.
Why I find sorrow in thy haughty eyes?
Empty of tomorrows, thy smile speaks a thousand nights.
For night is night, gold brings no real light.
Heavy is thy wealth that drowns carefree smiles
Cold is the family name that nails thee from home a thousand miles.
A pale spectre in a golden gown.
Pinioned to thee thy Medici crown.
Peeled off the delight, broken the wing
The once moonlit skin pale against a world of tears and sin.
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