A piece of 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝, piece bearing 𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜,
A touch upon which gets you to 𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧,
Ergo you reached for it, 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 to caress.
With an 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 gesture, it 𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐝 you,
Believing this'd be a story of 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲.

𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩 as a 𝘩𝘢𝘸𝘬 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 for its 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐲,
You 𝘴𝘦𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘥 it with a ****, steady in pace
𝘊𝘭𝘢𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 at the 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐭, not for its 𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐰,
Instead a desire to 𝘢𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘦 it to dust
This was the cue of a conte of 𝘭𝘰𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦.

Now this 𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐭 holds itself together
Into a 𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤 - 𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝 and 𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 ,
Encasing an 𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝 safe within.
Like an 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳 intending to 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘮,
You 𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 this narrative with 𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘦..

An 𝐨𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 when intruded by a 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘦,
Turns it into a pearl of ethereal beauty
But this time it failed oh-so terribly,
Yet in turn 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐝 over its defeat
Redefining this tale into one of 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞.