If only I were out with some streams & trees;
for- there, indeed, is where my body begs to be.
I wish: on my cheeks, I felt a gentle breeze;
one blowing t'ward me off vast, open seas.
You see? I am trapped on a wide, grassy plain!
Stuck in this dreary place- where it all began.
Trapped on the plains; heeding the wind's pain-
ful howling stories of each woman and man-
  each that ever was- and will come to be.
I suppose I'm only conceiving the land that she-
resides within: the place she lies down to sleep.
A kingdom of sorts- a kingdom of many ports
built of towering pillars o' glimmering Quartz.
You see? Her very presence- it seems to thwart
all negative energy that any man could sport.
In short, she is like a mountainous terrain;
one that I would like to scale to the peak of
where I'll sit weeping out my eyes as a train-
track is built around her body. An engine shove-
s across her back on wooden planks and rails so shoddy.