Bare our hands; let me see our palms blade bearer.
Are our psalms gloved in innocence or naked caked in blood, blade bearer? For what purpose do you seek the blade? What are our intentions? Where is our heart, blade bearer?
Do we remember when the blades were obsidian? When the blade was the crystal and our conjunction with the calmed universe was completed.
Then reality changed, for us. We shed our minds and grew our eyes and descended to now.
Our blades were sundered from the fabric of realisation, our powers gone.
Do you remember blade bearer? Only that which beats in our breasts can feel the shadow of that last, lost touch. For now our mind is bereft of its purpose. Our monde is bicameral.
The purpose of wielding the beautifully spectered blades.
However we were not completely amnesiac and the blades turned to stone, desecrated as best we could. When the metal flowed we set the crystal in the bronze, hilted. In the iron and steel the jewels were always set in decoration. In memory for our ripped minds and halted eyes. Waiting for reconjunction. For renewed geometry,
Can you remember how our ken could swirl time and destroy gravity as we handled the blades. The great power of our thoughts and the changes we wrought? Our power in the 4 realms of the 5, where we reigned.
The four realms where we reigned alone. Haunted. Hunted. Hounded. Never free. Pandora’s hope released.
Be mindful blade bearer that on handling the blade we can become the foe all too easily. Be wary of our intentions, ask our heart and only then look into her eyes, for she is the unbroken chain, a link to our past and the realisation in its purest sense.
The blade is dangerous to us, blade bearer, and will surrender us if we are untrue. To accept the stones is to be set upon a high wire of fate, for the stones will allow the jinn to afflict us if we weaken.
Look into her eyes blade bearer. Are we true? Her gravity is our doom. Are we true?
Pick up our wondrous blaze swordsman and enter the fray.
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