The life of a poet in love I am living,
but foes of my loving I won’t be forgiving.
It may seem I’m lost in my rhyme and verse making,
with heart now unbroken and no longer aching.
Yet pen pours on paper my pure, pent-up passion,
and fighting my foes hasn’t gone out of fashion!

I don’t doubt my love as I pluck off a petal.
For now, I’m more certain, since stuff we did settle!
So life as a poet in love’s still engaging.
'Gainst those that did force us apart I’m still raging!
And though love speaks sweet, with a voice soft and gentle.
Then dances like Venus, or girl oriental…

My life as a poet in love’s more than flowers:
It’s vengeance! And warfare with pitiless powers!