Sweet Surrender

The oxygenated blood gushing from my being provides the ammunition to lay down my singular sword. The temptation to grab it with both hands cuts my mind into pieces. As I whisper into the furious wind surrounding the infinite forest were it lays I gain strength.

The glare from the warm steel invites me into battle. The sharpness of the blade confines my mind. The enemy is freely marching in a perfect display of synchronicity, but my sword was built for love.

As I fall to my knees, I do not fear the approaching death about to pierce but understand my being remains a decision to live life for love. My sword stays in a perfect display of readiness. No army shall concur the power that is forged within the faith of my surrender.

In complete silence, I have never been stronger. As I lay down my sword within the simplicity of the mirror my roots are shown in my ability to surrender. The pattern of blood on my sword is as clear as the shadow surrounding the forest I dance in battle.

Sweet Surrender

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