The Sword Poem by M.. ROHITH

The last seconds came
to use my SWORD
which i have
created when i first understood
the meaning of revolution.
I started modifying it from then
make more and more dangerous
more and more cruel
more pitiless!
I washed it with my tears
and tamed it with my spirit!

It glitters within
warming my soul
when i am sad!
Its now brighter than a million noons
and cruel as 1000 lions!

Now its time for my sword to come out
and rule my flesh and my land and my direction!