As I waited for my execution,
I painted a target on my chest.
Your arrows are needlepricks:
And symbols draw no blood.
Attack my heart like a raptor:
Before the flesh has spoiled.
Little I knew 't is no bloodletting
But the first blood drawn in war.
Seeing that I was undaunted,
Eros stepped up his game.
Trading his bow for a ballista,
To deliver so heavy an arrow.
It didn't just pierce my core,
But took it out of its frame.
And I was left a-wandering,
To seek where it had gone.
It spun around as it fell,
Only to settle upon you.
My heart is made of stone,
And still it draws me to you.
You plundered what was left,
To steer me in your hands.
All I can do is go with you,
When my senses are with you;
I who thought I'd be immortal,
Until the day that I met you,
Who swore not to avert my gaze,
From horizons beckoning ahead.
But so be it take my life as yours,
For your light's eclipsed the stars.
I'll never find which way to go,
When your glow spans all my view.

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