nocks the arrow and pulls back the string
holds a moment and lets fly
the arrow moves faster almost
than human eye and thought can follow
it sinks into whatever she aimed at
target or human chest
no
she is not sinking metaphoric arrows
this is not love piercing some dolt's heart
these are weapons
and so far she is life dispensing death
knowing full well
bad planning or poor luck
someday will turn the game on her
she counts on her end being quick
there are worse fates
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