He holds a blade in his hands
( A sharp and thinner )
Will he cut his own finger
Or will he cut another
He is been told -Past & Now
He is been scolded - Past & Now
( First for use, Now for the Plough)
"Oh , he went to hurt another?"
(The blood is crusted on his nails
And blade !)
Now will he wash off the blade
to tell If
He cut his own finger
Or did he cut another
He swings the blade
And dried off
And then,
He said " she was the target"
And
She had a blade
She said calmly
" My blade is blunt & so I
evade"
(The boy remembered what they told
They said everyone lie and they pretend
But he thought she was different
And didn't defend
He said "hold my hands"
She looked smiling,
And had her hands lend
She swirled her fingers
And blades with them,
She stabbed her blade
In his fingers
As she said "The end"
He got up and walked away
And In the forest,
He soaked his own blood
On the blades and then
walked away)
They asked him
Did he cut his own finger
Or did he cut another
He replied
" She was strong and had a big
Shiny blade "
" She lied that it was blunt
And she may evade"
" Though I knew she was lying
And so I fought her with my own
Blade"
" She stabbed me twice but
I prevailed"
They remarked him ,
For that he cut a finger another
And gifted him a new blade,
He spent his days in regret
Scratching the blade
And with his nails
( Becoming ****** and erased)
He was proud for the new blade
He thought it will make him
Anew and remade
But
whenever he saw it
It made him recall
"The smile of the girl
And The lies in her swirl".
In a world where trust is a fragile illusion, a man stands at the crossroads of pride and regret, wielding a blade that carries both power and consequence. He has been taught that strength lies in the ability to strike, yet he hesitates—unsure whether to wound himself or another.
When he meets a woman who claims her blade is blunt, he chooses to believe her, despite warnings that people lie and pretend. But deception, like a hidden dagger, is most dangerous when least expected. As she turns on him, he realizes too late that some wounds are not inflicted by steel, but by trust misplaced. Wounded yet victorious, he is gifted a new blade—a reward for survival, yet a curse that binds him to the memory of his betrayal.
No matter how sharp or new the blade, the past cannot be erased. Every glance at it brings back the smile of the girl and the lies in her swirl—a lesson carved deeper than any wound.
