Poem, Sagas, Weekend

For all it is.

Should it be within my power, I would not suffer the dishonest or dishonored. That I would not be subject to the whims and fantasies of those who would see the world as that which owes them rather than what is.

For all I am is all that I alone have learned and faced. And nothing else may wander before nor claim to take my place.

But always those sorts linger in the shadows and the light, to take my place as fraud or those who would claim their story truth, that they know all I am.

I remain.

With blade held in my hand I remain.

With feet planted firmly and holding the high ground of my convictions, I am formidable.

Come horrid beasts or lesser men to take all that I am.

But here I stand and ready and willing. The blade joins my hand as one.

May the gods shows the mercy I shall not for those who attempt to take all which I am. The very same nothing to which they themselves are.

Glory to the destruction of those who have not of themselves and need to take another.

Should it be within my power, I should hear no other voice, nor see no other face. For I have seen that which many offer, and the offer of oblivion is the true wonder.

If only it were within my power.

3 thoughts on “For all it is.”

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