Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
April Feb 19
The flash of blades across the hall
The cries of “good” that stand for pain
The glint of steel within my grasp
And the smile on my face

These things to me mean happiness

My teacher’s voice soft counsels me
My heart within my chest beats free
My enemy stands across from me
As the marshal calls “lay on”

And I know that I’m alive

The weight of a sword in my black gloved hand
The dance of my feet across the floor
The sound of my blade as it rings it’s challenge
Issued against your own

And I know that I’ve found my home

Peyton L Oct 2019
The sky is old, it is tired.
It is aching.

The sky is bruised.
It is blackest blue and deepest blood purple.
It is tearing and writhing and mashing.
It is molded by someone
who knows not of their own power for desire.

It is being destroyed and created at the same time,
it is being pushed and pulled and grabbed
by hands who have known little of gentleness
and have been overcome by violence
but are trying to be soothing.

Hands made for wielding swords
steadfast give up when attempting to weave flowers together.

But he has not given up.

He is immobilized-
lost in his own despair and pain
as he tries to create.
He is searching through things he doesn't quite understand
searching through himself
and his own power he has left untapped for many a year.

He is trying-
hoping to help build a world
where love knows no bounds
and hate is only as strong as those
feeble hearts who use it.

The End of Time has already passed,
and no one can see past it
no one knows whether he will succeed.
But they do know
that he will continue to try
to press on
until the last whisper of his soul is gone from this world.

I am waiting for the day
when we can all celebrate
as one people
united behind
he who tore the sky
and lifted it up again,
I don't really know what to say about this, other than I have been uniquely inspired by some of the reading I've been doing recently and this is the product of that.
fraudelle Oct 2019
So here I go
At the hill of Camlann
My Death will arrive soon
I can't talk nor walk.
Due to severe wounds I've got
So i asked Bedevier
To bring this sword
Back to the real owner
To take my immortality
And tell Merlin to bring me
On the garden Avalon.
Canis Latrans Mar 2019
Desolate sands, vacant blood.
Sunset bleeds into final night.
Aut Caesar Aut Nihil.
Jo Meyer Apr 2019
the  paranoid  King                                    the  adama­nt  Rook
the   soulless  tyrant                                   icon  of   bloodshed
an  empire build on                                    build  on  the  ivory
fright   and  despair                                    fragments of  death  
                                    the   vacant  Knight  
                                    servant   of   demise
                                    the  bearer   of   fate
                                    bound  to the  night
the virulent  Queen                                    the  twisted  ­Bishop
daughter   of  doom                                    preacher   of   battle
the   graceful  terror                                    true worshipper  of    
clad   in  gilt  debris                                    the  god of  carnage
Stephen James Mar 2019
the slums of shaolin
gave rise to nine buddha monks
to each...four chambers
a haiku
b Aug 2018
you can only see orion
in winter
she says.
i make pretend.
if minds are swords
than i am dull twice over
and she is
battle ready.

i cook a meal
so tender in
the moment.
when it ends i will
crash back
to the bottom
i know.

i get a little
too personal by the fire.
id love to say
i dont care
and mean it,
but that would
be a load of ****.
i am a ***** for
validation i will pay
you for it.

orion died for
what a beautiful
way to go.
sunprincess May 2018
Drowning in your words,
I'm going down,

I'm drowning in your words
with a smile,
and not
a frown
Nicholas Fonte Mar 2018
Awaken o' youth of legend
It is time to bring evil the end
On your own accord
you will raise your sword
-Oh, wait is that a rapier?
I'm sorry things got hazier
over on the scri-what? It's a claymore
now? This is getting really sore
Excuse me? It's apparently an estoc
Those aren't very easy to block
with but-wait nevermind, I think it's a katana?
Ok, whatever, do you just wanna
"cut" to the chase?
Woah wait it's not a mace
Dont expect me to rhyme
every line... all the time
Sorry this has gotten out of hand
But, I hope you understand
That it doesn't matter what it is
You are our hero who will finish this
Next page