Feedback Song for a Dying Friend

Soothe the young man's sweating forehead Touch the naked stem held hidden there Safe in such dark hayseed wired nest Then his light brown eyes are quick Once touch is what he thought was grip Tis not his hands those there but mine And safe, my hands do seek to gain All knowledge of my master's manly rain The scented taste that stills my tongue Is wrong that is set but not undone His fiery eyes can slash my savage skin And force all seriousness away He wades in close waters Deep sleep alters his senses I must obey my only rival He will command our twin revival The same insane sustain again The two of us so close to our own hearts I silenced and wrote this In awe of the coincidence