Stoic
Blade
3/23/01
Let
the stoic blade
Of
what must be
Trace
the wound that won't fade
Then
cut the blood free.
Let
the blood run,
Through
eternal webs spun,
By
naīve widow spiders
Who
pose as hopeless fighters.
And
as the blood thickens,
To
clot the wound from which it came,
Let
the stoic blade
Come
forth to cut again.
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