You were born an emerald among thistles.
Vulnerable to the eye, yet destined to fly with angels.
Your soft bristles promise the cold, a poisonous flame,
That will burn and will blaze till you own a new name.
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Mesmerizingly beautiful, this poem impressed me unending. I have enjoyed very much this scintillating poem.5 Stars!
really that's just beautifully crafted; I enjoyed