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653. The Sword

The bloodied sword struck so fast
No defense possible against the blade
A blur of movement was so final
A retaliatory strike never to be made
Both shirt and skin split asunder
Life’s blood cast forth into the air
The wound ripped open the chest once loving
A resting place for comfort no longer there
The eyes blinked in immediate understanding
No wisdom needed to know death was close by
As the light faded for the last time
The mind struggled to comprehend the reason why
The fallen soldier collapsed as did his life
His dreams spilt forth upon the ground
The voice of a warrior silenced in combat
A hero’s body forgotten upon the dripping ground


Poetry