The Urn That Holds A Soul
A women was created to be loved, to be cherished
To be desired, by a man her natural compliment
To be found, and protected from the hostile elements
A women’s love like no nectar any man has ever known
Her warmth, her kindness, her admiration so tantamount to him
Her touch, her tears to fall on his brawny chest
His tender response, his awakening excitement
His mad passion to fill her most intimate desires
She only wanting the two made one
The yin and yang the root of all creation
A new soul yearning to be conceived
Struggling for a life to express its sire and dame
A man was created to love a women
Someone, something to pour his soul into
All the while dying to give her someone to look up to
Something she can believe in and get behind
His strength, his drive, his ambition, so vaunted to her
His willing to live and die for what he believes in
His steadfast commitment to her love and his young
Him only wanting to be there for her need
To fill her with the outpouring of his love
Like a vessel that fills the urn of her soul
Like a soul that hold his own