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There I was, caught in labyrinth.
Time & time again I found myself lost.
Following Cupid's arrow.
Round & round I turned.
Still I was a fool to not admit my denial.
Chasing an arrow not meant for me.
Quickly I flew across the river
the grab the arrow
shot from my quiver
I wished my hide were like this stone
wich stopped the arrow quickly thrown
for tears do little to help with aim
I pick it up
And turn it over
It balances perfectly in my hand
No chips
No dents
It's ready to use
My feet on the line
My arrows in the quiver
Ready to shoot
My heart is a lonely hunter.
My arrow drawn, ready to strike,
Tears toward the target, bringing it to life.
A faint piano begins easing through the silence.
