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The Blade Song
The old blade is drawn from its sheath;
It feels so lightweight, like a leaf.
Hear it sing through the air we breathe
Guarding that in which we believe.
My skill and my thrill
Is its will to kill.
The bright blade in sight
Will fight for our rights.
So bring forth the blade to a foe
And it shall surely lay him low.
It feeds countless corpses to crows
And sends their souls to Hel below.
© Justin Douglas Blackford
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