the five finger rumble

i swung my fingers to the calling,
that i forget i am slapping a heart.

my fingers fall into the rumble of hatred,
that it wildly made its way.

and it landed on the yearn of a lover,
such omen of ill fated truth.

this perception of life as it lingers,
this harbinger of a lesson told.

the forward march of the five fingers,
the silent rhythm of its fold.

and before i realized the dance is over,
the horror had the winning shot.

- benard the jerryboy

twenty swords

spin the holster and see my shine as part i am
of the twenty swordsmen

lick my blade oh unfortunate tongue as who you were
my prey

fearsome eyes and masks of steel
still i slash through you, i am the seventh sword

my sins were never there im just a tool,
of only time may tell of death

i am just a tool of reckless men
who cut open your hearts and call it deed

my hilt be hold by thousand murderers
and yet i am a saint

my edge has tasted so many necks and so be
my creation

my heart remains as pure though I have slain a million

- andulian of aragorn's torso