He fired at me, the rose-cheeked Cherub, from his hiding view,
Indeed, the arrow struck its mark; deep and embedded true.

As was with habit, I turned and smiled, my eyes sparkling their hue,
To catch the nearest comely lass, and draw her to the magic new.

But I was cast in the barren place, one reserved for unfortunate few,
The land of No True Love; an Evil emptiness most thought through.

What sick, twisted, vile mind, purgatories a soul shot of flighted Love que?
To such as THIS, THIS…matchless hole where nothing can be but blue?

Blue. Tis how I feel. Blue. A missing…chance.