Must You Ask, What You Are To Me

Must you ask, what you are to me? Then let me say, and say it well. You were a soul behind a mask, a veil of what I could not tell. Then, like a god, you took to task my hidden pride cloaked in a shell. Then you, intense and raven-haired with wisdom fit for Pallas Athene, became the one who has seldom dared to be the ally I've never seen, the confidante with whom I shared my hope of things that could have been. And so you're like a compass, a chart and instrument to guide my paths through sadness and a broken heart; life's stormy trials and downdrafts are less severe because your part as friend lifts me so I again can laugh.