Meh, Might as well try at this poem thing again. Don't be too harsh.
My Mistress calls me every night
Yet I hate her, why oh why?
She pulls on me with all her might
She knows I'll fight her til I die.
My Mistress loves me, this I know
But I won't love her, this I swear
So let her come, without Cupid's bow
For shant love her, nor will she care.
It's almost dark, she pulls on me.
I fight her fiercely, but cannot see
Oh how does one stop a banshee?
I wish I could just be free.
But that must not be right.
Why would one fight this fight?
The mistress is a savior to all.
So into sleep I will fall.