Gold is fleeting, illusionary.
Her arms outstretched, calling, beckoning,
Much is done in her name.
Charity, War. She brings them forth,
Wings of illusion power her flight,
Iron pyrite, ocean sunsets, rivers of gold,
Should she notice you, you would kneel.
Her lips burning you with passion.
The sun lays paths of golden splendor to bring
Inspiration. Her greatest gift is imagination, childhood dreams