The arrow is released,
Filled with the poison of love,
Landing on the chosen victims,
And then Cupid quietly rode away.
Whoever thought it would be sweet,
This stab of the arrow,
The sharp pierce of the tip,
Straight into the softness of heart's core.
Brings to mind unwanted memories,
Of what were, and could've been;
Of endless possibilities lost to us.
Brings to the soul an icyness,
And the core a numbing blow,
Leaving the flesh trembling in fear.
Only a handful survives this agony,
The sufferings and torments of lust,
Before love is released,
Fulfilling Cupid's role in this cruel game.
Copyright © 2016 thearcticstar