An arrow loosed
An arrow loosed to fly swift and true
intent on piercing a kings heart,
should it strike there’ll be a ruler new
a different ox before the cart.
The king is dead, long live the king
but is it for better or for worse,
will the minstrels of glory days sing
or bards tell of a befallen curse.
And will the archer be a man of skill
long known for his steady aim
or man of conscience who cannot kill
his shot intended to leave him lame.
Or will the wind gust and then drop
while nudging the arrows flight,
on each path his heart will beat or stop
in a display of fickle fate’s might.