The lines of Death trace their way to her soul.
Ever present, always gone, the threads of life hand her judgment.
Half-beaten ivory, transfixed and transformed,
Heavy is the belt of feathers, yet massive is its counterpart.
Who choses to walk the road but a fearless warrior?
A warrior's life is pure as that of a cherry blossom:
Live and die for the good of the whole
Die when your stem is severed
Cut the bond, release the hold, loose the chains.
The ice in her eyes betrays the fire in her soul
And the steady hand masks the stillness in their heart.
A flourish of silver, a draw, a death, swift as the wind is fierce.
The scent of blood fills a void with its intangible horrors.
The thrill of the kill chills the bravest warrior to the bone.
The slaughter of sheep, the birth of a lamb, the sacrifice of a child.
The warrior stares into the eyes of the true enemy only when all are gone.
Peace follows...peace of rage...peace of death...peace of fear.
She walks the field of blood stained earth and relinquished herself to the fatigue.
She skims the field of dreams and takes in the fullness of the havoc wrecked.
Gliding clumsily towards the wood in search of rest, she hopes not to falter...
Born to raze and living to restore, yet doubting the sword,
The lone warrior in pure spirit revives what was left of the code.
Fighting each battle to the last as if it were the last.
Walking alone amongst a garden of corpses, she heads home
-HTC
After months of struggling with a block, this is what has emerged. There are too many meanings for me to explain here, so, believe what you will and take it how you like, but remember to look deeper than the surface. How much deeper...well that is dependant opon how deep you want to look into yourself. God rest you merry.