Unsheathed, it tells the history.
A blade without no doubt have a story.
Swiftly through another life.
A swing into a lie.
It glistens with the blood of enemies.
It glows in the light with remedies.
Silver by the light it shall glow.
Blue when a lightning strikes is there is show.
A moment in silent as it sits there.
Waiting to be used almost anywhere.
It long awaits for another battle ahead.
As the owner slowly clean the blade before bed.
Sharpness show the moment as it counts the days.
For a blade could be used in many ways.
But this... is the sword within a hand.
Readily for it's owner to tell it's new command.
The shine become bright in the sun.
As it was used for a spar for fun.
Soon, the sword, soon.
As the white of the moon,
Shows the scars of it.
As it took on many hits.
Soon, it will be sheathe again.
To wait for another story to begin.
YOU ARE READING
Faerie Wings
PoetryThis will be my place to write different poems, short or long ones. I will make this a special place for all my poems. Some are fantasy like so they will be a bit different. Warning, this is not for certain ages as this poem will have dark element...
