Broken solitude,
Mu-shin was a farm girl plain,
Interrupts writing,
Jisei in ink for blood stain,
His last battle poem,
Overwhelming his attempt
Yet unwavering
He travels where honor sent
Quietly she waits
Bowed and begging forgiveness
He writes of glory
That death is life’s greatest test,
The last word is wrote,
He sends Mu-shin for some tea
Waits in the garden,
Flowering in fresh beauty,
Plain farm girl hurries
Knowing only how to serve
No choices to make,
Samurai can never swerve
From honor given
Sipping tea he does prepare,
To travel his path,
Like Mu-shin also does share
No choice to make.
He mounts to fate to ride
Mu-shin gets Jisei he scribed.