With a weapon like this
I’ll make enemies kiss,
turn turmoil to bliss,
correct a near miss.
With arrows di amor,
I’ll help heroes score,
quell hate’s constant clamor,
turn garish to glamour.
With attached bowstring,
the blossom of spring,
rows of glittering rings,
lovers worshiping.
With mischievous quiver,
I aim and deliver,
make softies stiffer
and warriors shiver.
When fate takes aim,
my bow is a flame.
Love’s a dangerous game.
Infatuation: the same thing as fame.
© 2023 | K.Hartless
Cover Art: “Cupid Carving a Bow” 1535 painting by Parmigianino
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