The Blade

Your weapon of choice
wielded so expertly
practiced, artful

Crafted from malice
sculpted by darkness
your soul, reflected

Slow, graceful cuts
wickedly deep
my blood ebbs

Unsuspecting I was
blind, naive
fleeting glimpses

My dying breathe
desperate, futile
anger consuming

Your cold embrace
darkness, fear
why me?

I have no idea where these words came, yet tonight they took form. Raw thoughts to paper.

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3 thoughts on “The Blade

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