Cupid
by Patricia Crandall
Cupid, remove thy arrow! Is it fated your aim more precise with dove than hawk? Out, out I say! Visit me no more, inflicting hopes and dreams upon my threshold yet, kept behind locked door. In days long since past, I learned the truth, still I wake your muse once more.
Is there not more worthy prey than this uncompromising soul of mine? Now, leave me, within withering cocoon, shattered pieces of my broken heart rest til night, where, within my spirit finds its desire.
If by random chance, or design, these meager words resonate with within a heart broken such as mine, or betel psychotic ramblings of demented mind, neither weep nor, pity or condemn these wistful thoughts of mine. Rather, read between each line to find, one heart so ripe and fair, that even Cupids arrow could not contain, the love that lingers there.
Ashes float in a gentle wind, at the break of day, the moon a shadow in the west; where soft coos of love remain to stay.
Submitted: June 3, 2001
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