An arrow knows only forward. It flies from one place to another and never comes back.
An arrow takes time to reach its target. When it leaves the bow, all that remains is to wait for the sound of its impact.
An arrow has a sharp edge; it is built to hurt. Even the golden arrows of Cupid leave a chaotic aftermath.
An arrow may miss its mark and strike the innocent. You can aim carefully for the stars, but the universe reserves every right to turn the wind.
An arrow released cannot be unshot. When it finally reaches its one-way destination, after that unbearable pause, it wounds the very person you tried everything to protect.