Archers!
Ready your bow.
Aim.
Fire.
The last arrow was fired.
And as quickly as the arrow sprang from bow to target.
She was gone.
Disappearing into the night, dressed in black.
What is this urge to impress you?
This feeling of heartbreak over someone that was never mine?
Why is there still hope?
Maybe because theres still a spark.
And with that spark I want to burn the world.
Burn it with you!
But...I think;
I'm only burning myself.
I'd do anything.
Go anywhere.
Just to see you.
In my arms again.
Archers!
Ready your bow.
Aim.
Fire.
Nov 17, 2019
Nov 17, 2019 at 4:30 AM UTC
Archers!
Ready your bow.
Aim.
Fire.
The last arrow was fired.
And as quickly as the arrow sprang from bow to target.
She was gone.
Disappearing into the night, dressed in black.
What is this urge to impress you?
This feeling of heartbreak over someone that was never mine?
Why is there still hope?
Maybe because theres still a spark.
And with that spark I want to burn the world.
Burn it with you!
But...I think;
I'm only burning myself.
I'd do anything.
Go anywhere.
Just to see you.
In my arms again.
Archers!
Ready your bow.
Aim.
Fire.
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