What then is the poem?

The poem is a sword too sharp and piercing
Too vast and Strong
The poem bridges the gap between known and unknown forces
Between seen and unseen faces
The poem is a sword too sharp that cuts
Cutting through hearts and minds
The poem bridges the distance reached and unreached

The poem has its wings and aim to fly on its own
Don't force it to fly,
Let it fly and soar when its time comes

Ovi Odiete©August 2016

I forgive too quickly,
To me this is sickening
The beast inside of me, unleashed
Wishes to be a blade, unsheathed

Released into the world
Spinning, twist and twirl
Manipulate events, unfurl
A masterpiece, coloured swirls

It makes me feel helpless
I have too many morals
I follow them whether they help me
Or alone, I call

I have warned them
It's the last chance they will get
The satisfaction may be real
But I may end up in regret

Your family will always be your first line of defense.
If you don't have family then your independence shall be your second.
But if you have obtained a lover let them be your shield and you the sword.

Because a Sword is nothing without a Shield.

"No no... please don't die... please don't sigh like the wretched demise."

"Please survive, please don't surmise but rather survive! Live on, even if your own body dies. Even if your hand can no longer reach mine, I shall hold on tight. I shall reach for it, so don't cry. Please... don't die!"

"I saw that last tear in your eye, a tear of despair and demise. I saw that look on your face, that look in your eyes... quite shy of the times. But I must go onto a brighter plane. But please don't drown in shame. Like you said, death is also a mercy... so no one is to blame, but rather thank."

"You are right, but I was a fool for believing so. I was just a girl in an empty and reluctant world. Trying to find purpose, and another pearl. It's shaped round, and shines brighter than a silver crown. And you were the one to drop that pearl and look like a clown. And I was the one to grasp it and look like a crowned."

"And now you will be the one to hold onto it. Hold it tight, think it as the truth. Because for both of us know, that it has shined brighter than the radiant stars in the densely lit night. But I must leave now my dear, it was nice snuggling within your reality, but now I must pass onto your dreams, so please don't bother, but rather live on and prosper. And make that the last thing you ponder."

"No... No! Don't die! Please survive, please live on! Please, I don't want to be alone on this aisle. I want to feel your ecstatic pulses! I want to feel your elegant soft palms! I want to be within your grasp forevermore! ...Please! I just want another encore! I refuse to let your spirit die sore. Please, just another encore... PLEASE, JUST ONCE MORE. I DEMAND AN ENCORE. I DEMAND YOUR SWORD. I NEED... I need... i need... a sword. Because a shield is nothing without a sword..."

Drop your pen
-
How does that feel?
I agree
The pen is mightier than the sword
Only, however, if you want to get people
On your side
If the other side is carelessly
Brandishing their rapier
Then the pen can become a thing of evil
Just because the pen doesn't **** people
Doesn't mean it can't lead people
Off a cliff
People need to remember that

He twirls and whirls with supernatural speed
His usual blue eyes, with smoky black gleam
In the midst of a battle, sword in hand
Master to master, friend to friend

A metal, black, that no-one knows
Owned by one associated with crows
His messenger, his ally, his beast of burden
Caws and calls his silent song of death

A mercenary, bounty hunter, with just cause
To right the wrong and return what lies lost
To defend, apprehend, to defeat the Kursed
A story riddled into my verse

Not with a SWORD is a heart slain,
       Not with the Angel's Tune;
Is a mirror of wonderment,
       That gleams in the Dark of the Moon.

Lash at the Guardian Golem,
        Until it falls -
Collar them the noble,
        For the keys to the heart of the Doll.

Sagacious was the bird,
         That the maiden descried;
Just above the chamber,
         To the heart that died.

khopesh kisses,
she plants on your face.
Her empire of cruelty;
leaves you to rot.
Your bones to bleach,
in her desert heat.

With each cut,
you're drawn closer.
such an elegant poison,
is the power of passion.

Cleaverly cuts,
scamper on veins.
Life's blood is leaving;
to never return.
You are never you again.
she may leave;
you keep the pain.