His sword is shiny but darker than sand,
its edges are as crystal clear as moon.
His sword is keen but cannot divide land.
His sword is brave but fears the war is soon.
His sword can speak but only in silence.
His sword is good fighter but bad winner.
His sword can see but needs goggle or len,
it sees the loosers and not the winners.
That inner soul sword he took from nature
when naked in the womb of his mother.
An armour is given to all creature
to fight fate and any wicked brother.
The sword is the mind, it is short or tall.
Its beauty is not the same in us all.
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (His Sword by ikeh peter )
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