When cupid flies delightfully by,
Past memories tend to sidle along
Coy and sly, instead of shy
Chortling evilly as they plant doubtful seeds
When that fateful bow is pulled
Vivid visions ruthlessly assail
Worrysome and scary, instead of soothing
Hinting a harvest of blood and tears
When that arrow quivers in the air,
Time no longer seem to matter
Still and expectant, far from motion
Tension slicing like the swiftly flying arrow.
When the bull’s eye is hit
Past and future doubts slinks away
Significant nothings overwhelmed by oceans of emotions
The present in love , is all that matters.