The Monster in the Mirror (VI)

There are two figures atop a summer hilltop
It is day... and sometimes night
One is a priest sitting in the grass
The other is a soldier swinging with their sword
They both have a Monster on their back

Their Monsters whisper of what they are
And what they shall become... what they shall not do.
The priest weeps for the fall of everything
The soldier laughs at the challenge of victory
The summer will be long

The two sit quietly unlike their world
Next to each other...
Ten thousand ways apart.
The priest wears black by nature
The soldier wears color by choice

The Monster knows me well
The Monster is my father
The Monster is my desire
But I vouch
The Monster shall never be my child