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The Prince grinned at my revelation,
He let go of my hands turning to the walls of the well
He heaved in a deep breath and laughed, 
Turning again to me,
With incredulous chuckles
“Ah, yes your God has played with the virgin before!
Your innocence is flourishing, 
Just as my desire to have it alive, 
And squirming in my hands,
Grows, how attractive He must have found you
Writing to me as your life light dimmed
Like a candle slowly burning out
Your fragrance popping one last time into his
Heavenly almighty nostrils!
You allow me to hold you, Love
In hopes that you will grow into something more
Your naivety is indeed a gift, 
Yet you are swayed less as the days grow shorter
You are no child!
You are a woman, a spirit, a goddess in need
In this Millennium you have been taught by all the great ones
The martyrs, the prophets, the women who have proven godly enough,
But you have needed to taste me,
You are no virgin to the flow of my veins
You have me in your heart, 
And you love me
More than anyone could dare allow
You are here to grow, yes! 
You are right, and you are true
You are here to bloom 
Not only to heal, but doom! 

I wish you would but dream again,
Of all you can have with me
And awaken with newfound inspiration
To let enter her reign that you feel so dangerous
So threatening!”

With excitement, with sudden seriousness,
Sudden passion,
He lifted me up in newfound joy
He was careful with his claws as he gazed into my eyes
“Oh love, oh spirit, beguile me now, 
Let us be of one song again, 
To sing of unfolding futures
To sing of all we are!”

He set me down, panic and glee in his eyes, 
“Do not lose me with my wrath, 
You are too close to me to run now
I would not bother with a child
You know this!
I meddle with mastering intelligence,
With your gorgeous, challenging passion
I play your emotions in the deepest dreams I dream 
I shan’t lose you in the days ahead!
I shall wait for you when you leave
And I will find you amidst the battle
I shall gain you and you shall be praised
There is more than learning here
There is a promise of power,
A promise of knowledge
A promise of victory 
A promise of life
A promise of Love!”

He held me still,
His gaze impertinent, 
Delirious in his private dreams
Unraveling in his mind like answered supplications
Surety of fictitious fate
And as he held me,
I could not shake the sorrow from my being
He was unmovable, 
And in every way admirable
I resolved to reject him time and time again
Not just with my pen,
As was long ago,
But with every inkling of my being
And I cried there in his arms
Mourning for my love,
For the fate of separation
Raw, shameless mourning,
Raw as a child facing death should be

note: part 1 and 2 of this section in the epic are meant to be unified
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