He was smitten with love for her;
by that arrow deep and sure.
A gooey warmth between them;
filling the heart all within.

But, love's shaft festered, stinking foul;
to gangrenous, aching howl.
Through steamy glass his love moaned;
as he stood outside alone.

Those barbs cannot be reversed;
holding fast in a soul feeling cursed.
Longing for the lost one gone,
to the breast of a different one.

Love hates separating pain;
so forgives again and again.