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