Ah yes, such intelligent retort
A riposte to be proud, for sure.
How ever does one possess such talent,
To merely twist another�s form?

You speak of words
From her
To you
For the sake of winning love

But should it not be reversed
My friend
My enemy
That your words should be whispered to her?

What gives you such grace, �my Lord�
That your need for romance be negated?
What gives you such value, �my Lord�
That a woman must woo you?

If your soul is not taken,
Only cruelty, my friend
Is fitting to describe your course

If your heart does not flutter,
Only ego, my friend
Is what you wish reinforced.

Surely, you, a bard, may use your poetry, to make
The second move in your dance of love
Jamethiel, I am disappointed that you have written so,

For your words,
When written,
Show your love is unworthy

A good woman is a gift,
And should be cherished so.
Worthy of sweet nothings uttered,
From you
To her
For the sake of winning love.

So, perhaps I am a fool,
Sitting here and wondering
If the words I see are true

And yet,
In such a case,
A fool I would rather be,
Than one as apparently oblivious to passion,
As you seem to be.


Penned by my hand on the 16th of Valnuary, in the year 371 AF.