Sometime's in life, not everything is right.
Every now and then, a problem will arise.
So when that happens, I'll take my bow.
Shoot the arrow, let the fire grow.
Even if I defend my stance, all i'll have is a bloody mess.
Every time I shoot my bow, a new enemy seems to appear out of the ground.
I'll be a hunter, take them all down in rows.
The consequences may hurt, but the satisfaction is worth it to gloat.
I seem fine at first, calm and content.
Then you come at me, and worst of all? My friends.
The moment you lay a finger on the ones I love, my bow will be set and my arrow will nock.
For you see, a target has just materialized upon your fragile head.
What would happen if I shattered that, laying it in shattered fragments now dead?
So you, stay away. I'll sing a song of sweet pain, and hopefully you don't underestimate my A-Game.
Honestly, i'm small and weak, but I have the advantage of fight, and most of all speed.
A pair that cannot be touched.
A destiny that unfolds of dust.
Mysterious old that seem to repeat.
Can they make the jump, or bravest of all: The leap?
YOU ARE READING
~Poem Book~
PoetryLike a Diary, This Book will be, Through my head blows a breeze, it makes the leaves freeze, Orange leaves falling down, This is my story, and I won't let it drown.
