Do Your Worst

 

Let the rain patter, let it pour on the northern
side of downtown
Farther, just up ahead.
This archer takes a quiver
and hits a perfect mark, the target –
a poisoned apple in my head.
It was tempting to take a bite
To make apple pies and sing lullabies
Write alibis, or imprison dragonflies
all throughout the night, yet in hindsight
The arrow was my future
A caricature of a dear departure
I’d really be saddened if I can’t do this right
Let the storm blow, and fear not small arrow
Raindrops race in anticipation
This precipitation is a cycle, a circle
Of a bittersweet system called ‘life’
There’s nothing to it except to take it in
These dewdrop mornings, soaking and willing
Can only mean one thing –
If the worst is yet to come
Then the best is yet to come as well
Choking on details from manipulating endings
We are tongue-tied and dry-eyed
And yet here we are, still living
(In spite of it all)

 

 

Word Prompt:

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