Tis the pommel and the blade
Well-used, oft-wielded
carbon edge, honed
leather grip, toned
sharp of sheen, razor shone
lacerating skin, tearing bone
but the pain it works, last the most
on rejected hearts, forthwith remorse
cold stark steel, dulled-grey hearts
born to feel, eclipsed inside
forlorn worn shorn, teared-up torn
sheathed slashed stabbed, love-lorn.
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