The youth Sees the flower And dies for joy. The man Sees a woman And dies A thousand deaths Learning how to love. God hurts, sometimes, But the pain May not be in vain, If man and woman Both strive For things greater Than themselves. There is always more Than either sees, More than sight Or touch Can reveal, More than one Can reach alone. Come love me Like the sun! Love me Like rivers run! Come with me To places only Angels see! Let us not Live like stones But with bones That creak and groan, Straining forever For things unknown. Love me With gentle fire, With steadfast desire To make us more Than each alone May ever be. Love me Strong and true, So that When I take your hand In mine, I will not find Only emptiness.
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