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The Sword
I sat sheathed in the scabbard of the man.
He chose to keep me beside him and still
He could welcome me with the palm of his hand
I yearned to be free
He freed me not until he found the veil
His breath started getting faster and faster
He thought it belonged to the dead female
I then knew he was no longer master.
He yanked my hilted and unsheathed me
I saw much sadness in his once bright eyes
I gave a loud, rousing click of pure glee
I knew my sharp blade would be his demise
This was purpose it was meant to be
That’s why I killed him and am now happy
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