336. Death - Bringer
It was masterfully crafted with blood lust as its desire,
With each strike the blacksmith' s hammer sealed its fate,
Encasing deep within its very being a sense of deep hate.
Alone it was nothing more than highly sharpened steel,
A hungry weapon merely lying in wait for its next meal,
It lives for total destruction, and it rejoices in every death,
Attacking in its master's hand until it steals its opponent's breath.
The polished surface shines brightly on the crowded battlefield,
As it proudly walks hand in hand with its old comrade the shield,
The blade comes alive for the battle, it craves a long bloody war,
Death - Bringer has a very long memory as it tallies up the score.
The sword cares little for pleading, always takes with it the life,
Has no feeling, or pity, for the warrior who has a child, or a wife,
Death - Bringer will not be sad, nor will it ever break down and cry,
When, without mercy, it leaves its opponent on the ground to die.
If you have the unfortunate luck on a great battlefield to meet,
The sword known as Death - Bringer, you will end up in defeat,
It feasts heartily in the heat of battle on the dying and the dead,
Death - Bringer was built for war, and its blade must often be fed !
- Glenn Bergen, ( Ravensheart ), © Copyright, 2015.