THE BLADE

The second installment of poetry. again, written for my creative writing class in high school. Personally, I consider The Blade as my best work out of everything i've written up to this point. It was the only poem that actually gave me chills when I first proof read it. Its dark, and blunt, and stings a little. ENJOY!!! lol. 

THE BLADE

Twenty-one centimeters of tactical terror

Bringing dignity back to death.

For there lies no honor in lead,

No glory found in a gunstock.

The bullet simply passes through

like hot-blooded vagabond;

There is no lasting relationship.

You can divorce a bullet.

But I, I am a thorn

Eternally embedded in your side;

A splinter under your fingernail;

An inebriated party guest who just won’t hit the trail.

My methods are personal, And I like it that way.

Centuries of warfare made way for the potent perfection

That is my blade, so sharp, so unforgiving

As it parts the flesh

Like butter.

But here, here there’s no such thing as a hot knife.

No, only unforgiving fury and 

Cold.

Cold

Spreading

Slowly,

As the chill, 

The sinister arctic chill

Runs throughout,

as you dilate

And die.

No, No memories of mother

Or baby’s first steps.

Just the chill,

The chill,

The chill,

As you 

Fade

To 

Black

-Dave Swanson