The Perfect Weapon

 It looks sharp and exact,

 

A snow-white dagger

The perfect weapon.

Press your finger to the edge

You’ll expect a rivulet of blood

To ruin the stark perfection

But it bends under the pressure,

Caresses your skin like a dream.

Satin slivers held together tightly

By an unseen thread of whispers.

You can feel the murmurs course

Under your skin, leaving a little piece

Of the unimaginable places it’s been.

It hums of the oceans, and sings of the tides

It pulls you through deserts of white-silver sand

Scorches you with the fire of the sun

And soothes you with the brush of twilight.

If it softly kisses your sleeping eyelids

Then you’ve felt a piece of heaven

An angel’s feather fallen from the skies

 

 

 

Author's Note

review?

Reviews

[ebur™]

i have two words to describe it, beautiful yet intriguing. great job. :)

[Jenny Nelson]

Interesting. Very thought provoking. A pleasant piece to read.

[Nyida Strong]

There are so many ways this could be interpreted. I love it, for all of it's pained glory. If this means what I think it does, my heart goes out to you. If it doesn't then this poem reminds me of things all too familiar. Very well written.

N. Strong

[Milinda_Moon]

I like it.Very nice and beautiful! Great work!