Do not direct the dance, That is for those beyond. Yet stil, there does exist, A need for you to guide. Do not risk all to chance, refusing moves and prance. Do not now seek a trance, That forms a rigid stance. For you know not the pond, Or what does hold it fond. For there, the fish are spawned, Do not their home, abscond. When you are in its midst, You must, at times, wield fist. For some things choose resist, Despite what you insist. For these, do not abide, And gather those allied. The goal, for both to glide, Does rest on what has died. Your role in the advance, By wit and by the brawned, Is not to break her wrist, But bring her to safe hide.
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