They are at opposite ends of longing.
One to lay with her,
Her soft warmth against him,
Stroking his body with her caring hand,
He loses it all in her embrace.

The other, alone at the mountaintop,
The cold wind cutting his flesh, training
Training and training, more training
For the bitter combat he hopes to find.

The one looks upon the other
Wishing and wanting--
I shall soon be there, he whispers.

For one, a woman unable to understand his cry
For the other, a loneliness too deep
To hear it.

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