A feathered sting, a bone-deep ache,
My breath caught, for goodness sake.
An arrow's flight, a sudden blight.

I pulled it free, the wound still raw,
And turned to see, ignoring law.
Whose hand so sure, brought pain so pure?

Not when the barb ripped flesh and bone,
Did life depart, and I was flown.
But when I knew, the eyes of blue,
My dying started, and it was you.