I hold your hand, young one, you are torn apart. I am the beating spirit inside us all; I am the earth, the air, the heart. Take time, youth is fleeting and tempered by flames. Your breath escapes ears through misheard rumors and your claims go unfelt. Shush. Be calm, I promise someday to leave you torn by others and scarred. But for now you are handsome, young-- I hold your hand. Telling you I love you is my charm, my piercing beauty is forged by your ***** gaze. Itβs ok, young man. I hold your hand, and leave you, returning with fire, soldering the wound. Taking you into the earth, the air, the heart.