***Cuz you're afraid to find out all this hope that you had sent into the sky by now had crashed. And it did, because of me.

I made a paper bird.
With nurture she learned to Fly.
Her beauty was astounding.
But, Alas, it was Hunting Season.

Pierced by (my) Arrow or (your) Bullet?
We'll never know.
She Screeched,
instead of Singing,
as she fell to the Earth bellow.

I could try to save her.
And nurse her back to health.
But this situation surely required a team,
For a team we were no more.
And so She died.
As I did in Your arms.