The Sword

the sword 2

Love is kind.

Love is sweet.

Love makes us complete.

 

For some…maybe.

For others…it’s a lie.

 

It’s the tip of the sword.

Grazing lightly.

Tantalizing.

Delicately covering the heart.

 

It carves gently.

Evenly.

Smoothing over the scars,

Of an open wound.

 

Until it pierces the skin.

Little by little tearing apart,

The shreds that held it together.

 

Then the sword,

Plunges deeply.

Fiercely.

Widening the gap.

Until it becomes an open wound.

 

Bleeding.

Weeping.

Ripping apart the flesh,

That held it together.

 

Leaving the heart,

In pain.

In shreds.

Despairing over the loss,

Of once feeling whole.

 

It lies open.

Vulnerable.

Wasted.

Then thrown away,

When it has no more to give.

 

The sword is then sheathed,

After having conquered.

 

And leaves the remains,

Untouched.

And gelling into obscurity.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s