Softness envelopes
hardness, in a beautiful mystery.
Who is the master
of this battlefield?
He who wields the
sword with great skill
Or she who can
forge, mold or destroy the sword
At her desire?
Shall we dance in
combat? Thrust for parry?
Or shall I submit
willingly to the force of your passions,
Laying down my
arms in surrender?
No, I am the
sheath, designed to cover and protect,
Holding you fast
within.
Come my king, give
me your sword
And with it, I
will guard your life.
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