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I was a soul so far,
she was better than the red she was painted.
Twain and betwixt let’s say mixed.
I was after time, the sands of life were running,
something was coming.
Dare the risk for just one kiss with you.
Sailed, seeking the angel, seeking the witch.
But no country claimed that they could own you.
Said I should rest from my impossible quest,
seeking to test my involvement.
I covered my ears to the songs that their sirens were tempting.
And you, were you as true, were you still waiting?
Doubting, I could hear you say ‘yes’ to any man that approached you.
You cursed me untrue for all the lies I had said.
When the dark days came I clung to faith but she was a fickle companion.
She gave me a test writ by the devil,
to prove my taste, my gratuitous waste
of the bodies I had loved before you;
would my care for you be forsaken?
Then one day faith took pity and pointed,
her finger led to the end of the sea
and true as your word you were waiting.
You at my side, the one, the bride.
But your shivering is saying
that there’s more to this than you are telling.
So we fit together like peas in a pod,
one who is lonely and one who’s a sod.
That will do nicely.