You wish to be within my breath
Without my arms around you
Even merely lovers cannot
Adjust to such a false truth
A mans vocation is what they are
What they do
So is the human bond, between two
What they are
What they do
The King never plays Prince
Nor the blacksmith, a horse
It’s a thing beyond nature
That one cannot force
Lovers are not like the moon they gaze upon
Or ocean sway
They are light, heat, the breeze
That either stays
Or fades away.
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