On a level playing field will you never meet
a wildfire storming wide across the plains,
nor hope to stand, feet firm, astride
a raging, cascading torrent after it rains.

When you can pluck a star from the sky
and weave it deftly into a melody
so sweet it makes the heavens cry,
perhaps you and She will have something more to talk about.

Penned by my hand on the 20th of Chronos, in the year 400 AF.