These Hands of Mine- an original poem

Unknown artist
Unknown artist

This bloodied blade is cleaner than I,
for its hilt still gleams like the day
it was forged, with black eyes of
diamond encrusted in
its body and silver
steel strewn
along its
neck.

These
hands of mine
are bloodier than
my blade, for they’ve seen
the red clash of war and passed
over countless weeping women and
babes, without daring to beg forgiveness
for being the one who silenced their sons.

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