A Fancy For A Wayside Fire

Kamadeva on colorful parrot wings  
With flowers picked for him by Spring
Swoops down fast from up above
And casts on men a spell of love
  
As Kamadeva's arrows fly
In vain the mortals try to hide  
The pain eternally resides  
In those who cling to foolish pride
  
His bows are made of sugar cane
With a string of honey bees
When pierced it sets the heart aflame
And brings once proud men to their knees
  
Barbed with longing, winged with pain
Desire forms it's shaft
His arrows are sure to strike and maim  
The people in its path
  
His victims waken in the night  
Shaking as if from a fright
Covered in a shivering sweat
With sorrows that they can't forget
  
They'll hear bells ringing in their ears
And visions or their deepest fears
Mostly the fear of dying alone
That chilled his victims to the bone
  
When Kamadeva's darts  
Pierce the unsuspecting heart
Women are like a dancing flame  
That no one in this earth can tame  
  
A fancy for a wayside fire  
Will only singe our hearts desires
But lifelong worship at the altar of love
Will rain down blessings from above