A Samurai sword.

A bowed beauty.
She sleeps in a smooth but tough exterior.
Hiding, how lethal she can be.
Waiting to be waken.
Her handler, drawing her from her confines.
She emerges.
The leather hilt abandoning its confines.
The first glint of her beauty winks at you as light caresses her.
Your face reflects on her silver surface.
She slithers out slowly,
Lightly scraping the top of her cover.
A chance to reconsider your decision.
Deceivingly shiny,
Like a newborn.
But she’s seen tragedy.
Caused many.
Sliced through muscle, bone in one swipe.
She’s dangerous.
Yet so calm.
You must know what your future becomes when you decide to draw her out.
Red elixer wil coat her surface,
As she wrecks evil.
She’s made to serve.
Her beauty sharp and unforgiving.
Finally pull her out.
That sharp ring as she fully wakes when the tip of her cover releases her.
Music to her masters ears.
She is beautiful,
But decieving.
Evil strolls in her wake.



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