Weapon Mastery

A cycle of poems «Warrior Won't Hurt a Child»

Born in the forge, beneath the hammer's clang
A heart of steel, where ancient power sang
I felt the burn, the heat against my skin
Knowing then, a different life would begin
No gentle hands, no field of golden grain
Just discipline and the unending pain
To mold myself, a vessel strong and true
For the weapon waiting, waiting just for you

Weapon mastery, a journey long and deep
Where every cut and thrust, a promise I will keep
From novice hand to master's knowing grace
I'll dedicate my soul to claim this hallowed space

The training yard, a canvas stained with sweat
Each failed attempt, a lesson I can't forget
I feel the wood, the leather, the cold steel bite
Pushing past my limits, with all my strength and might
They say the weapon chooses, its wielder's fate
But destiny is forged, not simply left to wait
I hone my senses, sharpen every nerve
Preparing for the battles I deserve

Weapon mastery, a journey long and deep
Where every cut and thrust, a promise I will keep
From novice hand to master's knowing grace
I'll dedicate my soul to claim this hallowed space

The wind whispers secrets, through the willow trees
Reflecting on the battles yet to appease
The hunger for perfection, the yearning to excel
To weave a dance of death, a story I can tell

Weapon mastery, a journey long and deep
Where every cut and thrust, a promise I will keep
From novice hand to master's knowing grace
I'll dedicate my soul to claim this hallowed space

The weapon sings, a melody so clear
No longer just an object, but a part of me, I hear
One with the steel, my purpose now defined
Weapon mastery, forever intertwined.
Yeah, forever intertwined.