but look at her now, how no one likes her,
they turn away from her when she fights alone,
ugly, painted, rebel from form—error—;
errs on the side of caution or finds home—
with him, I say, your lord, master-mistress!
he is not lost without you, though, unheard
he seems when he sees you in distress,
without guide-protector-true, in (just) a word—:
honest cherisher of treasure so vast,
so bright-golden you can’t stare without might,
or such strength to bear the heat and last
to the end of time, sound-sound and white-light.
and that they both live within these things, three,
makes one true-wonder of the soul “to be”.