On the await by a shimering light,
A well handled cold and sharp blade hangs,
Sealed by the souls of the lifes it has taken.
Within a glance of remorse and air of curiosity,
Awaits a children, the most alive creature that has ever been near such,
Longing by the day to wield it.
Nor long the time wants to rush,
It knows the danger kept within the blade,
The influence upon who holds,
And the lack of mercy over who gets cut.
Dec 1, 2020
Dec 1, 2020 at 6:45 PM UTC
On the await by a shimering light,
A well handled cold and sharp blade hangs,
Sealed by the souls of the lifes it has taken.
Within a glance of remorse and air of curiosity,
Awaits a children, the most alive creature that has ever been near such,
Longing by the day to wield it.
Nor long the time wants to rush,
It knows the danger kept within the blade,
The influence upon who holds,
And the lack of mercy over who gets cut.
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