At my side – A poem


At my Side –

I carry this sword at my side.

It shines bright in the morning light

it reflects.

I have made it so,

for ne’er will you see it pitted or dull

while it lays in my hands.

Ne’er will you not see the blade as

keen of edge as when it was first cast

that fateful day from the folded metal within.

I count it a true companion for you will

ever see it at my side.

More faithful than the rest ever have been

from days forever gone and treacherous roads long

ago tread.

Ours is a pact forged of conflict,

Where we have both stood together

and tasted the promise of another

day as the blood dripped from both of

us to soil the ground beneath.

I will wake and it will be there.

I will live while it still shines,

for we have each other

My sword and I.

 

By Philip Wardlow 2012

This poem is about more  than a sword. It’s about what’s in us all. The will to to fight when hope may be lost but we fight and struggle and continue to climb out of it no matter what the odds. May you always keep your sword close by your side my friends…

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