A Rust-Covered Sword (Once Bloody)

A few thoughts on affairs in Eastern Europe in free style

_I_     

You may assail me with your Kazak blade
Then, in a single moment, I am gone;
In the darkness of the daylight I go,
My heart beats its last and I am no more
And you praise your combat skill and prowess
(Your smile is a wry smile, a soldier's smile)
But my tears form raindrops before I die
That rise to heaven where they are welcomed
And rain lasts forever (and one day too)
Then, the sword shall be rusted and futile.


_II_

Yet, my pen is of gold, tarnishing not,
And it strikes at your soul and speaks the truth
For, its words will live for two thousand years
(As the words of Jesus are heard today)
So, you seize my pencil to snap in two
Though, I hone both halves to write with each hand:
Now, your tears pointlessly fall to the ground
Where, there, they dry and are lost for all time.
A fresh drop of rain will wash them away,
I know it will come - the raindrop is me.

Reviews

[William Michael Reeves]

An excellent concept you wrote. The pencil breaks in half yet the two halves are honed in the destruction of the one to become stronger as two. Love it!

I believe Putin's sword is rusting as we speak!

[Alan S Jeeves]

Thank you William, history will judge (as it always does). I am pleased that you were pleased with this effort. Kind regards, Alan

[John the Baptist]

As the old saying goes, the pen is mightier than the sword. Still, it doesn't hurt to have a few Javelin missiles to back it up.

[Alan S Jeeves]

As you say John, the pen is mightier yet, a little help doesn't go amiss now and again. However, the cannons should whisper and not roar. Deep in my extensive portfolio is a piece which claims just that. I shall post on this site for you and all to enjoy - or otherwise! Kind regards, Alan