Ficlets

A Soldered Sword Swinging in the Shade

Shifting in my armor,
I feel the grit,
the rot of rust,
the taste of steel,
my mouth so dry,
I stumble on the fallen,
after a thousand kills,
blood is all I see,
crimson tears stream from my face,
and pour into my enemies,
these tears of death,
so full of hate.

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