My compassion is a steel blade,
so thin and sharp,
I could cut you
and you would not know.
You would bleed
and be unaware.

Blades are tools
as well as weapons.
They are the tool of healers,
and I operate with consent.

Fear of the unknown is not compassion,
so every slice is done with consciousness.

No matter how much
I wish to spare you pain,
it must be done with consciousness.
The title is a quote taken from a letter from a sensei of mine. He was attempting to describe my philosophy, and the poem flowed from there.
Umi 6d
To its mistresses wish, the blade dances through till she has been pleased, leaving a mess by engraving the scars of death as a mark, Alike a shadow she does not crack, cavorting a masacre of cruelty,
Berserking she follows the orders, shedding blood in fountains of death and misery without chance for this rage to stop without order,
Emotionless, cold, time is for her to stop moving when her bloody devotion consumes her entirely, swaying in the dark, destroying,
Tortured with true or false everyone disappears, time flows again,
A phantom glides over the sea of blood, in a mist, scarlet red,
Observing this would cause a riot of emotions to rage in pure fury,
Her name already burnt away, as a new one was given to her after this rumpus had found its peak, leaving the mistress in bliss, joy,
Watching their attemps to flee as they reach their dying moments,
Until those who get to close have perished, nobody and nothing left,
Cricling karma surely will catch them, after this sacrifice is done,
Warm blood melts the left over snow, laughter echos and reverbrates through the unending seeming night, bells ring, it is only midnight.
In the end her loyalty and efforts, her energy and love for her mistress
Are but a bloody devotion

~ Umi
Moeshfiekah Mar 10
He was everything
Until he became nothing
And then the blade whispered
"There is nothing more for you here."
He wanted her but she wanted the girl so he could not give life another chance
peyton Mar 9
i thought you were as gentle as the flower on my windowsill
instead, you were a double sided blade piercing my skin
and you didn't even know
my name
This life that I've been given,
Is full of dread and sin,
T'was made by God in Heaven,
There was no opting in.

My birth, the product of a couple,
As love engulfed their hearts,
But now the hate is not subtle,
Now they quickly grow apart.

My blood aches to escape me,
From the skin it's trapped beneath,
The knife shall be its saviour,
my wrist becomes a sheath.

The blade, it smiles at me,
With all those jagged teeth,
It wants to rip right through me,
To bury itself deep.

The long sleep is calling,
The final shut of eye,
Who will be there mourning?
When I finally take my life.

My funeral won't be lengthy,
There will be no words to say,
No talks of happy memories,
Nor showcasing accolades.

I know my days are numbered,
The light now is so clear,
Each day I grow more hungered,
Each second my death draws near.

There were people here for me,
But I caused them too much pain,
To them, I say "I'm Sorry",
It wasn't meant to be this way.
Umi Mar 5
Cutting through the darkness with a blade burning in an ominous yet in scarlet reddish tone, roaring as if it had the strengh of thunder.
The wielder in pure fury, swinging, swaying it around to pierce through the sinning gaze of the inhabitants of that place.
It is a true blade of banishment, viscious, without mercy or kindness,
raging evermore in an unending, continous rampage, gaining stengh.
Of course, one wouldn't expect any mercy but purgatory on this cruel and also blood drenched battlefield in which only sorrow is reaped.
But whereabouts of the heart already have been burnt away,
As the warped moon embraces the shadows of the fools,
The end had been brought near on that day which mortals fear,
Heat being spread with each slash, likely to set the soil ablaze,
Thus is the strengh of a sword which holds in a world of nightmares, likely to never desired to be ever seen before

~ Umi
Poetic T Feb 23
Words are sometimes
                   like a blunt knife,
           they can cut over time
and you don't realize that itch
is but the blade edging deeper
under the guise of an scratch.

Sometimes people can stab
                                 you slowly,
and you never realize that
even though by your side.
their hand Isn't holding you,
              but the hilt pushing it deeper
with snake smiles coloured as friendship.
Shadowed Figure…by Jessie 7/06

Shadowed figure in my thoughts
Shadowed figure in my dreams
Shadowed figure taunting me
I wake from my own screams
I never see the shadows face
Although I see his blade
Taking violent swings at me
My life begins to fade
Drowning in the shadows pull
No escape perceived
Reminded by the way I lived
And all my dirty deeds
Shadowed figure won’t retreat
Shadowed figure fierce
Shadowed figure on to me
Silent screams that pierce  
Shadowed figure calling me
Stand and taste my blade
Shadowed figure comes for me
The shadow I had made
Gale L Mccoy Jan 15
If you ever want to
Look inside yourself
To see how your blood pumps
And the color of your flesh
Take a pen and tear
words into paper instead
Bleed worlds and people
Scream through the mouths of others
But not through your skin
It will only scream back for more
And there is no harm in being unable
To stop a pen
Rather than a blade
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