The Prince on the White Horse

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Last night I walked amongst the books on a shelf.
Perhaps they could tell me something about myself.
I spent hours browsing the images of love and deceit.
Then I bore the fruits of the land coated with barren wheat.

I remember meeting you once more when the sun didn't shine.
Your warmest embrace must have reached where the sun don't shine.
I couldn't tell you how much I wanted you to be that certain person.
A knight in shining armor; that prince on a white horse, fronting the squadron.

Together we've ventured many turns of the path that takes us along.
I couldn't tell you how stuffed the air got, when I couldn't sing my song.
For a long time I dragged you, believed I should cater to your every need.
Then I became thirsty myself, but then there wasn't any water to feed.

How I followed the birds' footsteps into the vast skies of my mind.
Projecting nightly views onto the world around us, peace I find.
At first I didn't realize it was shutting the doors of our foundations.
Then there you were, busting them open, accepting and with patience.

Anxious I grew, to tread past those drawings and into that page.
I'll grab my bearded cowboy by the hand and open up this cage.
To spread those wings and finally fly ourselves into those dreams.
We'll know which path to turn now, and rise to see past the seams.

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