Crossbow

With a crossbow an arrow struck and pierced
The neck so worn by the gentry, for the compensation.
It sent his heart recruitment, delight and then
Resignation, according to knighthood and the kings.

This picture was a game of dice, no prowess
Or courtesy, according to the laws of probability.
One of the gentry so inflicted marched forward
Like a remote order, the file and rank being narrow.

The crossbow struck him, disfiguring his brow,
Making it frowned upon, for the brow was His.
This head gorged appeared on the floor of the jungle,
Like a holy relic, accustomed to mighty stares.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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