Witherland

[5] Blade and Balance

[5] BLADE AND BALANCE

They told me to hold the sword.
Wield it for balance, they said.
The monsters are coming.
And I fall.

Over: when I stand on the
brink of destruction, my hands are
cold with fear, and I grip for the hilt,
knuckles white, blood thin--
a terrible mistake.

And: the metal comes next.
It glistens skin-deep, bone-deep,
and when prayer whispers,
light floods in.

Over: the lies sink faster than before.
Darkness hides on the other side,
while all we see on the surface
is glory roaring roaring roaring--
the monsters are here.

Again: precarious.
When blood remains, I see the world
tripping over the edge of the sword,
red and forgotten.
They drop, drop, drop--
balance.

And we fall endlessly.