One notch and straight, decided fate.
Then loose and look, another's took.
A visor up, one on the floor
the naive put it up to four.
The boulder crash
and rip of leather
the quiver's gone but not
too slow
comes back the bow
and arrow tip,
and tearing through
a savage eye
that's number five that he decides.
But now another's tagged his throat
and down he goes, and so he knows,
that its not smart to mess about
with sticks and stones and long bows.