Crossfire Poem by Andrea Szyhowski

At dawn the maiden embraces her solider away,
Watching him depart, never knowing the next meeting day.
The sun moves over the heaven,
Off to work she goes, to be paid gold of seven.
'You sir, help me will you.'
To young to know what she's to do.
Now around her up comes the battle of her.
'That is my life you're trying to steal, Sir.'
Her eyes lay on her solider, seieng him alive,
Her heart sings a new song, but her soul must make a dive.
Only when she noticed the crossfire that she did deal,
Now she realized one life she must kill.
Two arrows fly under the dreamer's lights,
A new choice she does see shine bright.
Her own for them, should she stay,
Would they see why it had to end that way?
Could their eyes be opened to how she cared?
The arrows fly on, doing only as dared.
Would they come together and end this war?
Could they not see how it was they she adore?
The push of the arrows forcing to become one,
At the heart the solider and worker see what they have done.
A new warmth grows around this battle,
The twilight era of truth that needs rattle.
Lay there maiden, dark water washed beneath,
Her solider grabs for his sword hiddin in his sheath.
Cold air wraps around taken place of arm,
Both look to her for a charm.
At point the day turns old the maiden stood in a crossfire,
Arrows flew in a fight of her desire.