There are no lies
Left to tell;
You know them all too well.
But the spell
That transitions
Changes positions.
I have no gift to carry,
But the parry
Of sword.
I will listen,
As glistening blades
Decide on me.
I don’t kill that easy;
What would a poet
Endure,
Everything.
What had he achieved
He had moments,
Some good,
Some bad.
A simple man of ages past
That does not figure
In our reality.
