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
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
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.
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.
Desolate sands, vacant blood.
Sunset bleeds into final night.
Aut Caesar Aut Nihil.
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
the slums of shaolin
gave rise to nine buddha monks
to each...four chambers
you can only see orion
i make pretend.
if minds are swords
than i am dull twice over
and she is
i cook a meal
so tender in
when it ends i will
to the bottom
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.
Drowning in your words,
I'm going down,
I'm drowning in your words
with a smile,
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