Weapons
I spent hours staring at the smoking gun
Spent bullets and spent time
A hole in the wall, barely large enough to peek at
A broken jagged glass of wine
Swords on my wall, sharp and shiny
I spent ages sharpening them in the dark
Forged them in forgotten realms
When I pull them out of the scabbard
I may look haggard
But I strike fierce and hit my mark
And I have a whole damn armada
I got cannons that spew fire and smoke
I have a gauntlet of visitors that gazed on my halls
I have chain mail in my cloak
And I have found that among this weaponry and armour
There is none so effective like my skill as a charmer
Because I can break your skull with a well placed swing
But it’s no comparison to the doubt that my words can bring
Because I don’t need to destroy you myself
My words will sow the seeds
And I’ll reap you and your actions with the scythe of consequences
I don’t have to cut to watch you bleed
