Her

I'm the light- Their dark did ignite For spreading her thigh, I'm the lot Fruit of the seed got There on tilling, a choice For two, the force Farming, cause of the day- Toiling, the only way Too early she'd set out Too young to glove for bouts Her prime the cost That my peak won't be lost Though, a cub to be bred- Yet, I, firstling to bread Her youthful moments I choke From her yoke - a bloke Still not a tear for a time lost But, care that mine's not lost Spent her days for mine Thrift them, so I don't pay fine Bore me in the womb, Raised in her room Paved away from the tomb So my days would bloom Her dreams, my reality Her peak, my beginning