let me sheathe this weary blade
within the warm earth
take the weight of these wounds
and turn them into something new
grow something green under the dark sky
let it bloom to starlight and starling song
and wax beneath the moon
I will take a knee for the shadows
rest my head against this scarred hilt
and find a deep moment in the rolling dark
I and this sword and the blooming new
nested next to me
resting for the stretch of time
Dawn breaks
and the battle calls
So sword and I are gone
with a wilting bloom behind.
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