Psyche
You did not marry a monster
What kind of soul shows such kindness
Such understanding
Such love
Psyche
You would listen to your sisters
Who had grown green with envy
And red with jealousy
And black with deceit

Psyche
Your lover
Is none other
That that most beautiful of the gods
He that men call Eros

Psyche
Why would you have to prove?
With your knife and lantern in hand
Not knowing what you had
Or what you would lose
Psyche
These test you have to pass
Merely ways to prove your faith
You always had
Your guilded fate

Drink deep the sweet nectar of ambrosia
And live forever

Psyche
Your lover
Is none other
That that most beautiful of the gods
He that men call Eros