Ero's Arrow

The days begin to cast thy breath away. Thy beauty every day begins to fade. A deep repose is making its slow way. Even greatest effort can not evade Ban fret, my love, as thy skin starts to crease, Don’t fuss, my dear, as your eyes form their bags. Thy hair and thy body all goes to cease; So brittle can’st we be as we all sag. Don’t close thy eyes just yet, still I must say: For there has not been a single sunrise, To which my love hath ever durst be slain, For Eros mighty arrow can’st never die As long as words still rhyme and lines take breath, My love will follow thee far past our deaths.