I am his oasis

 

I am his oasis.. as the world is a barren place.. he comes to me to fill his heart and slake his thirst. I am his nourishment and his sweet fruit.

He comes to me dry and parched many arrows run through his heart; as he has been to warring in a world full of cruelty he needs me.

I am his oasis

There is no need for his white trusty steed; he shakes his dented armor free as he comes to have his fill of me.

On my soft breast he rests his weary head; to cry brittle tears; as he has been strong for far to long but I judge his weakness not.

I am his oasis

His bitter tears of pain untold turn to sweetness within my folds and then within he takes what he needs from me.

My cup is full and it runneth over; he can take so much more of me forever more over and over.

I am his oasis

In me he sheaths his sword and plants his seed and then I grow for him the new strength he needs.

I am his oasis

The world promises him dreams of fortune and fate; but with his battlement it doth pay, but at a price of leaving him dry.

For fortune and fate cannot mandate the depth of a woman’s heart that heals his wary soul’s plight.

I am his oasis

I give to him soft rest and breast, sweet thighs that await him to penetrate them.

In the morn he brave again, is ready to raise again to the fight.. because..

I am his oasis

My love is the cup that fills his dry parched soul again, again, for I am his for the taking.

I am his oasis

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