YOU’VE MET folks, and will still welcome the mankind,
Then, now, forthcoming;
You’ve been stabbing them, neither getting exhausted of it,
Over, over, and over again.
You’ll leave them bleeding with love,
Bruised with ache,
Vested with solitude;
Frozen grief on their faces,
Remorse within their vacuous eyes;
And death within their soul.
You’ve met folks incapable of defending their so-called self,
Competent of wasting their so-called life;
You’ll be stabbing them with your sin-sharpened sword,
Heart pierced with vagueness.
You’ll abandon them like a butt of cigarette smoked by several lips,
A butt of cigarette being engulfed by the vanishing fire,
A but of cigarette stomped by hundreds of shoes;
And they’ll die a little death.
Sword of Love what a sovereignty in your possession’s,
Don’t you ever get dull?
Sword of Love all of us will encounter your cold-blooded steel;
And when we do,
Sword of Love you’ll have more than a lifetime,
To witness all the aftermath;
Entirely all! Everything!
Sword of Love stab me once, by your weapon,
With all your force,
With all that’s left;
And never retreat –ever.
Oh Sword of Love —