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