Cupid’s arrow has pierced my soul,
Oh, it’s no more whole,
Bleeding on and off,
For your love, wearing off,
And yet methinks, of hope a ray,
Shines but flickers nay!
Am bemused utterly,
And pine for its pristine state forlornly.
It’s as if in half agony
And half hope unsteadily!
Indeed, I need a helping hand to rise urgently
For my tired heart and soul not to perish imminently.