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Ryan Long Apr 2016
Forged in flame
Cooled in blood
Sharpened with souls
Cleaned of crud

I pick up my sword
Pull it out of the sheath
It becomes a part of me
It's bloodlust begins to seethe

I focus on the blade before me
In it's sheen I see the battle
I envision slaying my enemies
I hear our armor rattle

On the battlefield it looks as if there are
Two behemoths fighting for dominance
Thousands of men on each side
Forming one consciousness

As we rush towards each other
A sudden moment of quiet
Then like the release of a storm
A roaring thunder to break what was silent

In that instant we clash
My soul becomes war thirsty
I lose myself in the drums of war
It drives me to an insanity

I slash with my sword,
I block with my shield
I fight beside my brothers
We will never yield

In that moment I blink
my world becomes black
I come back to myself
The fire makes a pop and crack

My skin glistens with sweat
Sitting under my tree,
Polishing my sword
No one around but me

I close my eyes and breath deep
Making myself calm once more
I have the drive and hunger
The need to go to war

— The End —