The sword of air, metalic cutting winds, stripping off the bark. The sword of mind, fine-tuned sharpened thought, a quick witted discernment. The sword of spine, filled with molten fire, piercing the burning medulla. The sword of words, quick slashes of combinations, reducing the all to form. The sword of numbers, splintering the infinite, into mathematical probabilities. The sword of the tongue, quick to speak or rolling compassion, casting the spell of intention. The sword of love, piercing the heart, healing with this wounding closeness.
Ah, but the sword is but a veil for the mystery that emanates from the blood it thirsts to draw, the wound it hungers to inflict. The Sword, for all practical purposes, is unassailabe. It feels and knows nothing, a mere instrument. But with the will and passion of consiousness to wield it, it is an awesome and mighty weapon. This may seem cheesy, but have you ever seen Conan The Barbarian? Where Conan and Thulsa Doom have the discussion about the Riddle of Steel, and the Riddle of Flesh? Of course, this is a concept that could be traced at least as far back as the Old Man On The Mountain. Nevertheless, the Will. Much Love
Pulled that one out of the vault. I'm glad you liked it. I'm soon to be visiting here on a less frequent basis. Feel like I've left a compendium of work under 'Radiant Center'. However it is not now, only soon. Robert E. Howard the original creator of Conan was friends with H. P. Lovecraft http://www.wordiq.com/definition/Conan_the_Barbarian Much love, and blessings on Phoenix Isis' arrival.
