What I was doing...

I spent my posting time posting a response to a post that most certainly needed one.
Here was the post and the response I gave:

POST

Should I offer up my fleshy blade?
Passion wrought and lusty-made...
Would you offer your sword too?
Or 'haps a chalice of rosy dew?
Perchance you offer the Holy Grail?
Your tender skin both blushed and pale...
The cup, this man, both white and red...
I'll comb you smooth and stroke your head.
To sup the wine that lies within...
But dare not break the holy skin?
And if by your word, you shall know me...
Than in that act we'll be made Holy.
So when you're ready; the act conveyed...
I'll give you the stars, and they'll never fade.



All in due time.


RESPONSE

I sit here now and hear your voice...
And understand it's not your choice.
To pull the sword from another's side...
Is making the choice to live or die.
We see those around us fail or lie...
Only half of them seem to survive.
What scares me most of this covenant...
Is how to some it seems irrelivant.
How simple it is to have your heat...
And fuse together those incomplete.
The road that I had chosen to walk...
Is one where there is one line of chalk.
I guess this fight that we want to end...
Stops when you and I can both depend...
Not on one hand to feel ahead...
But on two hands to grasp instead.


I...


or rather...


We...