Make The World Bleed

Head on the ground and body in the air,
I sit here and watch and stare.
We are going out once again, to another land,
and I am to stay stout in his very hand.
My master’s head held high with no regret,
for the foes we do not fret.
Blood clings to me every time we return,
and with each battle my Master’s wife waits with concern.
I am ground to a sharp blade on either side,
disemboweling my foes and tossing out their insides.
With one hit I can crack a mans skull with no real skill,
then come back to a last hit to make the final kill.
Flesh flying too and fro,
hitting everyone with an ongoing blow.
No one is given mercy as I carve my way to the end,
for in this blood lust I see only enemy not friend.
No weapon will ever hit the one that holds me,
for in this battle for life I am the only thing that will set him free.
A tight grip and off we go,
and soon another head is lobbed off of another foe.
They may spill a lot of blood or a little here and there,
but it is just that they are dead, that we really care.
Carnage bodies, blood from to another day, we fight,
and I will do my best to kill everything in sight.
I will be sharpened again and again all long as I am in need,
for I am his weapon of choice made to make the world bleed.

Written By
Robert Lee Niswander
Copyright 2004