Poets logo

The Arrow

Fleeing from the shrouded arrow

By Daphne SampsonPublished 8 days ago 1 min read
The Arrow
Photo by Scott Carroll on Unsplash

Vexed messages soaring from the sharpest of arrows,

Leaving shards of glass in their wake.

In your hunter’s aim, steadfast and unmoving.


When did I transform into a deer?

We must cease this quarrel before it’s too late, I fear.

Your skillfulness is so precise, like a bee to a hive.

You can find me in the stillness of the night.


We are from the same mother’s breast.

Have suffered the same loss,

For the past few years, it has been a mess.

Nothing good comes from being cross.


A battlefield of clouded perception.

Oh, that arrow is shrouded in more than just jagged stone-tipped.

Emotions overflowing with anguish and despair,

Jealousy and anger,

What a frightful scare.


Leaping towards safer ground,

For I refuse this deadly game,

No longer willing to be a target

For messages on arrows that

should not carry my name.

This was originally posted on Medium.

nature poetrysad poetry

About the Creator

Daphne Sampson

Loving Wife, Mom, Dog Mom- A Dyslexic dreamer who never thought I could read or write. But life changed, and I conquered my fears. I am an artist, photographer, wordsmith and illustrator.

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments (4)

Sign in to comment
  • Cathy holmes7 days ago

    That was sad and powerful. Well done.

  • This was so poignant and powerful! Awesome poem!

  • Mr Ahsan8 days ago

    Fantastic poem. Well written

  • Mother Combs8 days ago

    Beautifully written

Find us on social media

Miscellaneous links

  • Explore
  • Contact
  • Privacy Policy
  • Terms of Use
  • Support

© 2023 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.