A Stretcher-Bearer Plugs the Hole

With past anchored in an empty port
The moors barren and fog made of charcoal drifting in
We called for the moon to be dismantled
The sun to reverse its course and never come back
For there should be no light without each other
We have not excelled at anything
Save hurting each other
It seems to be all that we are skilled at
And when the days are long
And the night is too short
We sometimes call a truce
To walk to each other's respective place
Before the target
And retrieve our weapons
So that we may throw again

A ring on a certain finger
The proper hand
Signifies a desire to go on killing each other
Ten below and falling
For the better part of a year
That time when snow seems less than natural
And more of a disaster

How could my heart speak of such cruel anger
When it holds a wealth of all-encompassing love?
We can be neither friends nor enemies
We offer no terms but complete and unconditional surrender
Each of us too proud to accept the other's demands
We could dance around this ring till the end of our lives
But the spectators would grow tired and walk away
The match only being important to the two of us
And though we both have a ring beneath our gloves
Yours has a stone
And though we're ready to remove our gloves at times
We know the fabric of which they're sewn
A horse will only run as long as you chase it
And a dream will die only if you let it
Perhaps we understand this too well
The children we'll never have
Would learn quite a lesson from us two
But our eyes are locked
And our spirits fiery
We draw rebuttals and arrange our thoughts ahead of time
So that we may be most effective in destroying the other
It is good that all is fair in love and war
Because you can never have one without the other