32. The Archer's Mistake
An archer arrived in high mountains, aiming arrows in the air,
A stranger in this strange land, she felt new and out of place, left alone to stare.
From a distant land, far away, she ventured to this destination,
Using maps to find a spot, a place to rest, not yet a home's foundation.
A master's guidance she sought, but only found a mentor's cold embrace,
A fellow traveler by her side, yet not a true friend in this vast space.
She pauses, sitting on a stone, while distant cheers the air did fill,
The clamor of the colosseum, a noise she could not omit or still.
Amidst the crowd's elation, she couldn't grasp their joy's inception,
To her, it was all just noise, lacking meaning, this was the archer's perception.
Then, suddenly, a frog appeared, speaking words beyond her expectation,
Surprised, the archer asked, "A cat? Whare are you here in this jubilation?"
The archer questioned, shocked to see a frog, in such a bewildering sight,
The frog responded, "My lover is playing near," and smiled with pure delight.
They spoke, and they spoke more, like a river flowing with endless talk,
Finding solace in each other's presence, like a fire that does not balk.
A newfound friendship blossomed, something the archer had never known,
She marveled at the feeling, realizing she was no longer alone.
She gazed around, friend and foe entwined,
In the midst of chaos, a bond she hoped to find.
Mistakes. Mistakes were made soon, and hearts turned cold,
Went to her friends and smiled, came back to the frog with stabs at her back.
The archer chose snakes with knives, leaving the frog betrayed and old,
Regret lingered in the air, as the archer returned to her newfound friends,
A smile on her face, while the frog suffered from the arrows' bitter ends.
In this tale of highs and lows, the archer learned the cost of her pride,
Yet deep within, a yearning for true friendship, never to subside.
She looked at the frog and saw a second option in a friend,
A bond that could have flourished, was brought to a bitter end.
That was the archer's mistake.
YOU ARE READING
Untold Tales
PoetryPoetry. As we venture into the depths of the woods, our voyage leads us into the sylvan realm where languishing nymphs reside, burdened by sorrow and constrained to silence for it holds secrets that will cause havoc once unraveled. In the gardens wh...
