He was fragile, fearful and fatigued.
She was calm, cool and comforting.
He had always been very good at hiding,
She had always been very good at seeking.
He was a good man, she could see.
She was compassionate, he could see.
When he would buckle under the burden of injustice and frustration,
She would pick through sharp shards and fragments of confusion to find him.
Between them, there was kindness and solicitude.
When he was battered from the thundering tempests,
She would stand solid and strong, anchored in stability.
While his demons were his own to fight,
She would be his respite and retreat.
How ever many times he crossed the river Styx,
She would pay the ferryman just to bring him back.
He did not know how much he need her,
But she did.