It’s true there is a battle,
But I shall not yet bear arms,
Instead I aim to win you,
With a quiet war of charms.

She knows not of her opponent,
Or even of the threat,
And the amor in my armoury,
Is not collected yet.

But the tools at her disposal,
Are more deadly than a blade.
For my foe has you already,
And she thinks her bed is made.

The battle ground’s uneven,
The odds are in her favour,
She’ll need every scrap of fight,
And all the might God gave her.

For I shall not stop in this life,
Nor even in the others,
And I call to all the Goddesses,
The Gods and all their Mothers.

The ones who know what’s right,
And who I should belong to,
The saviours of my heart,
Who know how much I want you.

I have faith in all their powers,
Even though I am a sinner,
Love, I will have the victory,
But you will be the winner.