The hero's heart may sometimes wander, lost
Amid desire's imaginative grounds
To leave him as a wren on winds sharp tossed
Though blame lies with his own brain's senseless rounds
For while he might pretend he stands a chance
As eyes shine bright and lips part in a smile
Much hope is lost, ill-founded on one glance
And doubt becomes the product of denial
Weak faith but in the affection of a girl
Brings pain, for fickle her affections run
And leave the hero lost in his own world
Without the light he mistook for the sun
So guard, lest your affections take control
Before you fall to form, Love's true shape know. |
