PLUS QUE DES AMIS (AMOUR IMPROBABLE)

Many companions, our rabbit has,
But on her own, she strives to go.
The burden of ancestry set fast
That streak past storms, she must show.
Yet all is futile.
Her feet have burned their miles.
She cries and weeps.
Streaming cold tears from her eyes.

A wind blows from the east.
Its objective quite clear.
In the distance, a creature in tears--
Void of wants, lacking of needs.
He flies and soars. Prepared.
The world not noticing.
Of bad dust, yet still clean.
Of capabilities, yet unseen.

One of the companions our rabbit has.
But on her own, she strives to go.
The desire to assist, this lad to this lass.
His gentle hand, pushing to make her grow.
Not all is futile.
His wind has aided her for miles.
She now rests well in sleep,
For on his shoulders, she has cried.

Thorns and thistles, they have conquered.
Glorious moments, excitement together.
The rabbit has found her friend.
Smiling as they sight what's in store.
The wind has found his love.
Yet he can't say that she is something more.

For the wind, a glistening smile is enough.
To use his skills through ways smooth or rough.
For his mind, a moment of silence is euphoric.
He desires to speak, but he must remain stoic.

A rabbit in the field.
A wind from the east.
A friendship already real.
That love might actually seize.
That lingering fear.
That emotion, so clear.
Only time will tell.
If the wind who fell- -for the rabbit
Would find his lovereturned to him
By the only being whose heart would his fit.

~written by Boredom and I've Been Coding Too Much