We are friends.
Only friends.
I see her joy,
And I am joyful.
I see her sadness,
And I am sad.
I can feel what she feels,
Yet we can be still be friends...
If, at the least,
Only friends.

Ever so defined, ever so perfect.
The epitome of exactness,
The symbol of creed,
The measurer that keeps
Everything in place.
Now, the real question comes into mind:
Am I speaking of
A mortal man
Or
A transcendent piece of definition?