I have been cursed by the spell of Aphrodite.
No matter how much wrong you do,
I am a fool blinded by you.
You could drag my soul through the waters of Styx,
with a spell so powerful that it would delude me to think Tartarus itself was greater than Olympus.
I can no longer speak your name upon my lips,
for whenever I do, it is an incantation to you.

Yet no matter how much I curse your name,
I cannot help but to be in awe of your beauty.
Your mere memory itself makes me fall deeper into your spell.
I am a madman, longing for just a whiff of your perfume.
I curse your name, but in the shadows I worship you.
Never have I seen true beauty until I looked upon your face.
How I curse Aphrodite for working through the vessel that is you.