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Ash Feb 8
An arrow pinched
Between delicate fingers,
Gently nocked, but aiming true,
Pulled taut against the bowstring.

It sings through the air,
Harmonious, but decisive,
And it strikes silently,
Knowing only one destination.

...And so begins Cupid's hunting season.
Man Nov 2023
Love given, but not taken, is not love un-received;
You have love to give,
That is something.
Whether their heart is open
To the souls' hymns
Your words sing,
The song is never wasted-
But goes through changes,
As the renewal of spring.
leeaaun Nov 2023
In love's tapestry, a tale unfolds,
Where Cupid, the archer, his story molds.
A fateful day, his aim went astray,
The wrong arrow struck, leading hearts astray.


A quiver full of arrows, each with a role,
One for passion, the other for the soul.
But Cupid, in haste, confused his art,
Shot the wrong arrow, tearing love apart.


In the labyrinth of emotions, I found my way,
Entangled in love's web, where shadows play.
The arrow meant for joy pierced my heart,
Yet sorrow's seed grew, tearing love apart.


A tragic chapter, my love story unfolds,
As pain and heartache, in its pages, molds.
Cupid's error, a twist in the plot,
A love story woven, then tangled in a knot.


People say it's a folklore, a tale to be told,
Of love's missteps, where hearts grow cold.
A saga of pain, with a sad, bitter end,
Yet in its telling, generations transcend.


For love's not always a tale of delight,
Sometimes it's pain that colors the night.
A twisted arrow, a love story's bend,
A folklore passed on, from friend to friend.


So, in the echoes of the cupid's wrong aim,
A love story born from sorrow and pain.
A folklore woven in the fabric of time,
A cautionary tale of love's subtle rhyme.
how the cupid used the wrong arrow on me, my love story is full of pain who has a sad end
xjf Aug 2023
I tell you
My name is William Cupid
I see that apple in your eye
Have no fear my dear
off the rack
I'll nock
pull back
and let these arrows fly
Of all the things we’ve shared together,
I will always remember…
The first time we hung out,
And how I had the best time with you.
How happy I felt getting to know you.

Our first kiss,
And how your lips felt against mine,
The first time you told me that you loved me,
And how that moment became a memory
I’ll never forget.

I love everything about you,
And anything that reminds me of you.
Because for me,
It will always be you…
You mean so much to me. Nothing can change how I feel.
liakey Oct 2021
absent from my life,
but dancing forever in my mind.

preserved perfectly:
idealized and beautified,
immortal, god-like.

wanting to let go,
yet holding on too tight.

memories, exaggerated:
they haunt me,
notoriously unreliable.

close my eyes;
take me back in time…
before I was bloodied by his arrow.
Rewrite of “?”
Blood on Cupid’s Arrow

There is blood on Cupid’s Arrow
From where I yanked it from my heart
I refuse to fall in love again
It makes for extremely painful art
Part twenty-three....
Rama Krsna Aug 2021
is it me or did i not see
naughty cupid shamelessly flash
his flowery bow and love-dipped arrow
straight at me?

smitten,
i see her falling eyelash,
  only witness
to that seductive gaze
which freezes amaranthine ‘time’
down to absolute zero.

seldom bound
by conventions or clocks,
i, the sage smile....
knowing her playful side
and the true nature of whimsical cupid.


© 2021
modern rendition of the  story of shiva and kama-cupid
I S A A C Aug 2021
bittersweet, Beetlejuice
silly me to wait for you
while you take flights around with your new boo
bittersweet, I wish I knew
how stupid I looked texting you
trying to get you to open up the whole time you was deeply in love
bittersweet, how you would
tell me your love life is nonexistent now I see you kissing up
with your new boo underneath the sun
like **** here we go again
falling in love with another dead end
cant pretend it doesn’t hurt, can’t pretend I didn’t try to make it work
it's just bittersweet, Beetlejuice
how silly of me to fall for you
the constant pattern I just keep going through
over loving dove, but cupid still shooting a doe
on my knees already but just cut my throat
transform the new into what is known
uncondition and recondition me as a home
then it's no longer bittersweet, Beetlejuice
bittersweet on to something new
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