By: Eugenia Posted on: March 31, 2015
The Blademaster's Lament
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Some silver, clay and gathered ashes,
A feather, rose of red: purveyed.
I dream of stars and compass-slashes
While Murad forges up my blade.
This waiting kills. My guts are twisted.
The pester-urge must be resisted--
"Much longer yet?" But art can't rush.
I fold my tongue and hold my hush.
Quench sparks spring up and madly scatter--
He checks the edge and each side's flat,
Exclaims, "I give you Rambling Rat!"
My face forced blank, I feign and flatter,
Say thanks and stumble off. New quest:
A humgii, hungry to digest.
Another go gets Great Gorilla.
Now Crescent Bats and Whispering Eye,
A Stolen Dog and Waxing Killer,
Inspired Cats and Deadly Dye,
A Perfect Ant and Burning Monkey.
I can't use swords that sound so clunky.
Let me begin! I want to hunt!
The edge is sharp but dubbed so blunt.
As Murad works and hammers metal
I brace myself--he crafts bizarre
From pewter, ash and cinnabar.
Just this last try and then I settle.
The blade I'll bear to bring me fame?
Relentless Words--now there's a name.