An arrow was shot through the air
Aiming for peace and tranquility fair
Intense and straight, determined and true
That is until the storm came through
The straight path became turbulent still
The winds whipping it about without a thrill
It looked to the left, spoke to the right
Yet loneliness was its destiny in plain sight
Silent it wanted to believe was the only way
Yet hope remained within it through the storm that day
However with each word spoken, each question ask
It realised none cared whether it finished a task
The arrow's goal, clearly in sight
Alone it continued the eternal flight

Penned by my hand on Gosday, the 16th of Ios, in the year 6 AC.