The Archer

By Manahil Wakil

Once upon a time

In a faraway land

In a place since forgotten

And it’s people long buried in the sand

Wherein once lived an archer

Notorious and renowned

Fabled and celebrated

With hawk eyes and a grip too tight

The archer shot, and his shoot always died

One day, in the forbidden woods

Amongst the towering thicket of trees

He found a little boy crouching on the ground

Humming along with the bees

The archer wonders what he’s doing here

In the forests, frightening and forbidden

But ask he did not, 

He had learnt to prowl always

And thus, prey he always did

Another glorious day in the woods

He finds the same strange little boy lying there again;

amongst the huge trees and its roots

The boy notices the Archer this time

And makes his way towards him, staring intently at his face

The Archer bends down and he runs his fingers over a faded scar over the Archer’s brows

And points at a fresh deep cut he sported at the exact same place

I’ve heard about you, the boy says

You’re mean with a bow and arrow

I am so, the Archer replies

Noticing the same earthy brown that coloured both their eyes

I’ve got a target for you, the boy says abruptly

But you cannot cannot miss

The Archer smirks and the boy knows

That He never did slip

The boy runs a little distance

And displays his bare chest

He makes a silent prayer and takes a deep breath

He signals at the Archer, who stands there wide eyed

He couldn’t possibly shoot at the young boy

He could not, would not abide

The next day however, he finds the boy at the exact same spot

Standing exactly as he was

Determined and stout

Please, he calls after the Archer

It’s my only way out

The Archer takes a deep breath

Nocks his arrow; and draws his bow

The boy nods at him and the weapon’s released

‘I don’t miss’ the Archer says quietly

For he never never did.

By Manahil Wakil