You Pompous Bastard

You foul beast of mutant stature,
feathered wings adorn your back; desire,
your bow, back pulled, arrow hot and flaming,
burn in hell with me, you and your fire.

Your need for self induced fears and desires,
not a child, I sanctioned your wooden shaft into my heart,
only as hot as ashes, hot, but cool to my touch,
your tip burns, husts- thou,    are smart.

You beast, you heathen, you pompous bastard,
of love, I bleed, have bled, still more blood,
and still your arrow, you poke and twist, again and again.
I will, the score even, one heartfelt revengeful nite.

Oh, you create such a beauty, as not even heaven knows,
but have you the heart to bare, but one poke.
I Need You! I Want You! I Love You!
Cupid;    My revenge, the bounty for Your heart.