Whatever philosopher quoted so often
As saying that all is fair in love and war
Could be the most foolish sage I have heard tell of
Else war between lovers he ne'er saw before

The diff'rence between us, my willful young lady,
Is I subscribe not to that theory of fools
However, it seems that your reckless abandon
Accommodates vi'lence unfettered by rules

For carnage irrep'rable spawns from such conflict
When words become weapons, as solid as stone;
Though much may be said in the clutches of passion
The wise realize what is best left alone

So, I remain chivalrous even in battle
Conducting myself as an honoréd knight
For I cover you with the shield in my left hand
Though all that you see is the sword in my right

I shall never strike you when you are not ready
Nor shall I attack you when you come apart
Yet you, in your feral ferocity, hasten
To fletch words as arrows direct to my heart

Like barbéd darts through the air soaring toward me
A volley to darken the brightness of day
The diff'rence between us, my willful young lady:
I love you enough to know what not to say.