The way it moves

It moves softly,

Swiftly, with speed

 

In one’s eyes,

It’s actions

So hypnotic

Poetic, even

 

In another’s eyes,

It is alluring,

But deadly,

An illusion

Bound for destruction

 

Divine in sight

But human in actions

 

For centuries,

It has come in many forms

 

Short, yet efficient

Long, to strike enemies from afar

Just right, for a personal match

 

So this is how it goes

It has been this way all along

The battle for greatness

To be the best

 

These mighty swords

Of grace,

Lethal,

Beautiful,

Swift.

 

I have won.