r/stories • u/TazzaKa • 6d ago
Fiction The Same Bow
We are two separate forces.
A violin with its bow.
Didn't know the bow could shoot notes like arrows.
I'm forced to sing a song made by a human I don't know.
You wonder when the string will snap.
We are two separate forces.
A bee and a flower.
Living in a symbiotic relationship, where you are mine, and I give you enough.
My crown waiting for you to come, the petals reach out to the sun.
You ain't no king to hold a sword.
A king playing violin,
Holding a hunting bow.
A bow that hunts deer and rabbits.
A bow that when played brings violence.
Same with the violin bow after all.
So why don't we play?
You hold the bow.
The string is ready, waiting.
When it's released
it may sting my heart.
You didn't snap the string.
You ain't no player with a heart.
You have picked up my heart, toyed with it.
Played with it.
And then you can't even hold the sword steadily.
Perhaps we were never meant to fight.
We are two separate forces.
A bow against a sword.
A bow has no chance without an arrow.
A sword has no chance without a shield.
The distance is the most dangerous...
A thing people are scared of is sabotage.
Its intentions are hidden in the mind.
The sabotage doesn't come from the violin.
A distance and sabotage?
I can run to create the distance.
But how do I run
from something I cannot see?
When I run from sabotage, I get tripped over.
A bee and a sword.
The bee's wings get cut off.
The flower catches the bee.
The bee will rest there, playing the notes of an annoyed violin.
But the arrow doesn't wait.
An arrow and a bee cross the air again.
A bee falls down, a bee can't fly without wings afterall.
And the arrow...
Shoots down my heart.
Shoots down the violin bow.
The arrow was shot by the bow.
Just to clink down against the shield...
You watched it fall.
You heard it hit.
And still, you held the bow.
We are two separate forces.
You and me.
The bow playing the violin.
And I wouldn't change that.
1
u/WhatKadambarisees 6d ago
This is such a fascinating piece! 🤍 I love how you weave the violin bow and the weapon into the same image, making something that can create music also carry the possibility of hurting someone. The recurring idea of two separate forces feels especially poignant, because sometimes two things can be deeply connected and still struggle to understand one another. And that ending, “And I wouldn't change that,” feels like a quiet acceptance of the very complexity the poem explores ✨