The Sword - Revised
I drew my sword, I raised it high,
I fell upon the ground.
The masses came running, screaming,
To hear me read aloud.
The verses from a stick I’d found,
Fresh from the earth just plowed.
The words were not for the meek,
And rang out to the clouds,
The lessons from these pages
Are more than truth to bear.
What is life without living
To share with friends who care.
And blessed are those who find,
Pleasures in the treasures
Of simply being kind.
Have pity on the takers
Who choose by choice not to give.
For the sword is sharp,
Justice is fair,
And
Love is the only arm to bear.
I fell upon the ground.
The masses came running, screaming,
To hear me read aloud.
The verses from a stick I’d found,
Fresh from the earth just plowed.
The words were not for the meek,
And rang out to the clouds,
The lessons from these pages
Are more than truth to bear.
What is life without living
To share with friends who care.
And blessed are those who find,
Pleasures in the treasures
Of simply being kind.
Have pity on the takers
Who choose by choice not to give.
For the sword is sharp,
Justice is fair,
And
Love is the only arm to bear.
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.