#katana - Hello Poetry

There is a feeling I love. A feeling I can't deny is my favorite. Some may call it dangerous, some, may call it childish. By I, can't help how much I love it.

0

Mar 13, 2016

Mar 13, 2016 at 3:25 PM UTC

LilBean

Satisfaction

There is a feeling I love. A feeling I can't deny is my favorite. Some may call it dangerous, some, may call it childish. By I, can't help how much I love it.

9

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

0

Jul 4, 2016

Jul 4, 2016 at 7:05 AM UTC

Visceral

Silence, the Blank Card

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

12

Imagine seeing a silvery blade dancing to the music of death. Marred by the poetry of blood A trumpet to the cries of war But it also reflects the wielder. When looking at it, you can see yourself. But in my eyes, I can see the steel's heart. As it's in your hand, preparing to protect, it's polished until it shines like luna wildfire. In the end, I believe the true beauty of a katana comes not from the hilt or engravings, but from the steel. How many songs has it sang in our battles, can you imagine...? A katana's beauty comes from the polished steel as it's shines so brightly with victorious prayers.

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Nov 7, 2017

Nov 7, 2017 at 10:17 AM UTC

Lyn-Purcell

A Katana's Beauty

Imagine seeing a silvery blade dancing to the music of death. Marred by the poetry of blood A trumpet to the cries of war But it also reflects the wielder. When looking at it, you can see yourself. But in my eyes, I can see the steel's heart. As it's in your hand, preparing to protect, it's polished until it shines like luna wildfire. In the end, I believe the true beauty of a katana comes not from the hilt or engravings, but from the steel. How many songs has it sang in our battles, can you imagine...? A katana's beauty comes from the polished steel as it's shines so brightly with victorious prayers.

11

old warrior sits on riverbank katana drops

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May 17, 2022

May 17, 2022 at 8:58 PM UTC

mark-wanless

haiku 19/5/28a

old warrior sits on riverbank katana drops

3

The memories of raven black obsidian Well up at the sight of my new blade. A midnight blade, with a red groove, Running it’s own comet like streak Down the center of the curvature. The handle is made of an ebony wood, A wood as dark, if not darker than The blade it so reliably holds together. A thin silver band wraps the division Between the blade and handle, And blocks the sheath from over-sheathing. The sheath is also made of the same Shadowy wood as the handle, Giving off an aura of pure functionality. This was a weapon made purely to **** The air around the blade shadily undulates Like heartbeats through crimson arteries, Telling me it’s immense bloodlust.

0

Jan 1, 2020

Jan 1, 2020 at 1:36 AM UTC

Ayn

The hero’s(?) new blade

The memories of raven black obsidian Well up at the sight of my new blade. A midnight blade, with a red groove, Running it’s own comet like streak Down the center of the curvature. The handle is made of an ebony wood, A wood as dark, if not darker than The blade it so reliably holds together. A thin silver band wraps the division Between the blade and handle, And blocks the sheath from over-sheathing. The sheath is also made of the same Shadowy wood as the handle, Giving off an aura of pure functionality. This was a weapon made purely to **** The air around the blade shadily undulates Like heartbeats through crimson arteries, Telling me it’s immense bloodlust.

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