Since morning, my impatient mind keeps playing over and over,
A scene worthy of the greatest Hollywood films,
A scene that only archers can understand,
Or maybe you too can see it through.

Here I am, standing on the border of the world.
Out there, the target awaits its punishment.
My bow, a violin of power waiting to be played,
The string vibrates along with the arrow.
With gentle move, I raise my bow to the sky,
pull the string under my jaw and kiss it.
I watch the world dissappearing.
My vision follows a tunnel.
My right ankle, unique moving point left in the universe.
The arrow starts pressuring me to release it…

There we are.

My hand flies in the sky, free from the string's tension.
The arrow flies, hits the target,
The journey is peaceful, the end is cruel.
The bow falls from my left hand, marking the time like a Swiss clock.
I taste the moment, Like a Zen master.

I return to consciousness.
Here I am, standing on the border of the world.