O Cupid you afflicted creature.

Archer with no aim.

With your bow, Insouciant breacher,

“Lovers” you proclaim.

.

A blindness black, your dull affliction,

Yet your bolts you shoot.

Your breaching cardiac, like surgeon,

Renders pulse kaput.

.

Your quiver, source of human folly,

Also fires bliss.

For whence in love, the world is jolly,

Wars to peace are kissed.

.

It matters little who thou art,

Or what it is you do,

That heart-bound arrow: Cupid’s dart,

It darts its way to you!