I feel your love,
Yet your marksmanship is poor,
For towards me your love aims not.
Your intentions aimed elsewhere.

A past lover.
And I am not he.

Malicious Misery pushed you too far.
Too far this time.
Your life is precious to me,
Yet a treasure you seek not.

It dwindles within these machines,
Like a strand of seaweed.
Being crashed upon by the waves,
Of this poison you endowed yourself with.

Much a tragedy this is.
Yet not that of Shakespeare.
No, this much too real,
To take a form of fictitious imaginings.

This, much more complicated,
Than a Shakespearean masterpiece.
For if so,
Your love would be aimed at I.

But it is not,
And in resent, I mourn this tragedy.
Yet, I must let love,
Travel upon its everso hellbound path.

My eyes lie upon thee,
And my heart within the feeble hand of yours.
Yet your mind lies elsewhere,
And your desires lie with your mind.

Upon he.
The one currently at your arms reach.
The one at your desires demand.
The one you truly love.

I must not resent this,
For love hath struck thee as it struck I.
And Cupid's arrow hath stuck he as well.
I can see it in his sorrowful stare.

He loves you in a way that I cannot.
A consentful love.
For I am just a scapegoat.
Temporary.

Well now you've quenched your desire.
You've acquired what you sought.
Love of he.
(And I, for whatever its worth.)

His love is a precious gold,
And mine a mere coal.
Black, unwanted.
Only able to provide temporary warmth.

Pardon me for obstructing.
Love hath stolen my precious vision,
And wandered, I,
Into the meadow in which you hunt.

As a poor marksman,
Thou cast thine arrow of love upon me,
And realized I am but a scapegoat,
When the white stag is what you seek.

Once before,
you lined him in your sights.
But evasive is this mystical creature.
And once, he escap'd.

If your life so solidifies,
I shall replinish my vision,
Banish my love,
And obstruct thee no more.

Instead,
I must prosper in silence and patience.
Shun my hearts desires,
And let thee hunt.

I apologize for my inconvenience.
I shall groom each of your horses,
So that you may ride into,
The meadow of love together.

Hence, beware of hunters,
And wandering creatures.
Teach thine unsteady hand,
And this time...

Don't miss.