Sonnet #6

Amid the siege of eyes catching eyes
And volleys of kisses being assailed,
My soul wounded thus still yet tries
To beat that heat by love so now impaled.
And after the heat of such a battle worn,
When quietly the field lies in retrospect,
Then newfound battles in thought are born
And newly fought by Love's sweet dialect
And when that fighting has grown so fierce
That I surrender to you or you to me,
Then each in turn each heart will pierce
With all Love's arrows and their mastery.
If to such love our lives we spend,
Then let that fate become our end.