My Sleeve Poem by crazy sweep

In my past life, i was a warrior
an axe weilding warrior who was not afraid to fight
i would fight for freedom
and i would fight for truth
i would keep on fighting
to keep the innocence of my youth.

that me holds similarities with this me
i can be slow at times
and my heart seaps through my sleeve in a rhyme
and i never trusted my own actions
so i could never lead
but i pride myself on my loyalty
and for my word i would bleed

my axe was a wonder
through it i could control the world
and i could not sleep unless i swung the axe every night
it made me a man
i would forget everything outside of this war
and i would be the man my leader needed
i would think straight after one more swing
and it could be the last time after one more swing
but there never will be one last swing.
i am a slave to my axe
but i am not a warrior without it.
holding the handle would fill me with courage
similar to my second life transit.

just like this life, i needed my body armour
it provided me with another layer so my heart could not be struck
i thought i had it all
and i was invincible
but the arrows flew in from behind
i threw my arm over to protect my eyes
because through my eyes
my fear could be seen

unknowing of why this had to happen
one golden tip pierced below my shoulder
i froze up like roots holding me to the ground
and my limbs began to get colder
seeing a familiar face holding the bow
i was struck with being naive
i dropped my axe
as my heart bled through my sleeve