In war everyone is sharpened, hardened by enduring battle after battle without relief…

Double-edged, I am a sword. Sharpened by many wars, yet in friction I am not heated… I am cool to the touch.

I am no long fazed, no longer affected by the constant strain of war.

My frame stronger, battle fatigue… a distant memory, but my opponents are losing shape.

Soon it becomes difficult to separate those who are with me… from those against me.

In melee combat I fight; but I take no one’s safety into account… to leave this battlefield alive I now realize only I can be the victor… for my trust is expired, my vision blurred…

Blinded by blood in my eye; sword lowered I await my fate - to be struck down or to live for more battles.

This is War.

This is Love.