Misunderstood, I sit here in silence.
The drumming for my dancing beats rhythm.
Coherent opposition; Yin and Yang.
Are there others out there getting the gist?
The willow can bend, but only so much;
I will stand, defiant for my own sake
And search for the yet undiscovered steel
And forge my blade of Soul’s Independence.
A weapon smithy’d in the fires of Hell,
Of Vorpal sharpness this sword cuts both ways.
To properly wield this beauty of Death
Requires more skill than I have obtained.
Dear God! Indiscriminate butchery!
The stains on my blade are shared: Hers and Mine.
Forgive me my sweet one, this was never sought!
A dear heart shattered, my soul left in shreds.
Singular path trod seeking redemption.
My own blade sinks in my right side. It drinks.
Force steel to the left, I revel in pain.
TWIST, then UP! My sword rends my heart in twain.
