Plea in the night.

Halfway through the dark forest he began to cry:

“Please don’t despise your fair heart and take my life. My days are still young. These bitter tears I shed.”

“Why do you cry?”, the owl asked.

“A witch caught me on her web, and now I travel against my will. The purity of the spell won’t release me. Into her pot she’ll put me this dusk. At 5.”

“Lovers wouldn’t wish like me.”
“May date deliver you.” It replied, then flew away.

…