On the wall it hangs,
silently.
In scabbard encased.
Secure.
Secrets
What secrets might it conceal?
Courage, heroism
earned on battle's field?
Challenge?
In conflict no quarter.
Honor?
Was it never drawn with biased intent?
Silence.
Is that subtle clue to all?
Disturb not sleeping essence,
for to disrupt its peace.
Its honed edge will draw
taste, and carry blood's stain.
Sword.
On the wall it hangs,
silent, foreboding.
Symbol..., prophesy?
12Aug10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem