The Arrowhead
The seasons change within you
And your core becomes inert
As the arrowhead pierces skin and flesh
Your slumber finds an abrupt end
This life, nothing but a fleeting memory
Nothing but a masochistic dance
Cicadas, like a frightful choir
Ravaging the silence of the night
Your patch of heaven
Stained by the lead you leak
A life spent in cacophony
Days of old, they seem so bright
Your heart, it longs for motion
But your body longs for rest
The gentle wind across your face
As you spread your luminous wings
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