Finely Crafted

- jan-u-wine

It is finely crafted, 'tis said.....
 
finely crafted.
 
Even so,
 
I shall not wear it again,
 
shall not
ever
raise my hand
against
another living
thing.
 
The beauty of Elvish
spills
like runnelled water,
down the face of the blade,
 
rests its silvered flowers
upon my dishonored
hand.
 
Oh.
 
It pains me now,
pains me to look
upon it
and remember
how beautiful I once
thought
it was.
 
It is beautiful,
still.
 
Perhaps
it is only I
who have changed.
 
            The crafting
            of a Ring-bearer....
           
            the fine
            forging of one
            who might bear such a burden....
           
            the bitter mettle which
            broke
 
            in twain at the last,
           
            running liquid with fear
            and fury....

   

    Please.

    I do not wish to remember this
    anymore,

    I do not wish to see the red of
    angry flame
    rising
    to meet the crimson of my own
    blood,

    I do not wish to remember
    the creature
    rendered by desire,

    torn
    until I could not tell

    which

    of us had gone into the fire.

    I only know
   
    I wished for it to be me.

    So bright.

    So beautiful.

    So finely crafted.


    Even as you, fair blade of the West…..

    even
    as I.