Cutting God - Poem by Marcellino Carlo
'I can tell you with no ego, this is my finest sword. If on your journey, you should encounter God, God will be cut. ' - Hattori Hanzo (Kill Bill Vol.1)
I have woefully watched men
inhaled in an instant by the sterile
touch of death. A history prematurely ended
by something that is not of this realm.
Kisses of cold steel delicately emboss their flesh
Mere men who's cause outweighs their
fragile skill. They are therefore doomed
led into battle at the whim of a calling.
At the pinnacle of their languish
is a harbinger who with such intricate
delicacies separates their minds from their
spirits. The harbinger; Death incarnate. Primal and still
He as seen their ends far too many times
in the faces of those he brings to deliverance.
A vicious cycle that he cannot escape yet he is
drawn by his katana to this insane flurry of fury.
His blows as careful as a brain surgeon and
as merciless as christian-crusaders. He is not of this plain.
His mastery is unparalleled.
He is cut.
A fatal wound driven through by a child.
The rice pads call his name...
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