07-06-2013, 03:28 PM
A now old foe from a bygone day,
crossed my path as I walked my way;
the clash of steel, the ring of war,
the blood pumping in my ears once more.
It was good to cross his path again,
the war long dead, greeted as a friend.
My blade still sings of our glory days,
when we danced the dance as predator and prey.
With a nod of the head and a twitch of the wrist,
the memory of weight that once hung from my hip,
we went on our way, towards our own true fight,
to walk form life's bright day to night,
and wage the war that no man wins,
against time itself, and winter's cold winds.
crossed my path as I walked my way;
the clash of steel, the ring of war,
the blood pumping in my ears once more.
It was good to cross his path again,
the war long dead, greeted as a friend.
My blade still sings of our glory days,
when we danced the dance as predator and prey.
With a nod of the head and a twitch of the wrist,
the memory of weight that once hung from my hip,
we went on our way, towards our own true fight,
to walk form life's bright day to night,
and wage the war that no man wins,
against time itself, and winter's cold winds.