At The Tip Of A Blade Poem by Amber Glistener

I stand here in this very room,
the fire blazing every nicely,
with the young and old all around me,
to tell the story that so many do not live to tell.

You beg and plead for glorious war stories,
but the sad truth that comes from war,
has no glory,
only sadness and relief.

The last survivor on my side,
I stood disarmed and quaking,
While another soldier just as me,
stood in front of me with his blade out and twisting.

I sank to my knees,
hands held up and tears streaming from my eyes.

Sitting at the mercy of the soldier,
with the tip of his sword blade shoved at my neck.

Its a funny thing what threats to your life can do,
the things you are willing to say,
the actions you are willing to carry out,
so that is why when I poured out my life story,
about my lover and my family,
my dreams and my hopes,
my story and no one else's,
that he withdrew his weapon,
sunk to his knees and cried with me too.

When all was said and done,
we both got up and walked in opposite directions,
never again to see each other,
but both knowing that because of the soldier's mercy,
we both laid without scars.

Now I stand in this room with you,
with your questions,
your demands,
your inspections,
I truly am once again standing at the tip of your blades.