The Sword, a poem about life and death.

[liamh]

A blade is being used in battle; it breaks. Thinking back the blade remembers being forged. So young, untouched and malleable, it is shaped into the blade which will be broken in its later life.

The blade has just started its journey to become a mighty sword. It is not a sword yet, but an uninfluenced piece of raw forged steel.

The creator, gives this piece of steel life by shaping it, and hardening the steel. The blade reminisces back to the feeling of being quenched and given meaning. The crackling, flaming action and cooling feeling soothes it’s mind.

Not yet is the steel a sword, but so close to it. The steel is so close to being whole. The creator tempers the steel, removing stubbornness and giving it meaning, finally! It graduates this part of its life.

Now it obtains a handle, further dignifying it. It remembers being so sharp and keen, very keen. The sword was the sharpest of them all; because it was so patient and willing.

After many years of battle and triumph the sword still lives on, destroying any endeavor in it’s path. Yes, the sword remembers being sharp. Over many years the sword notices that it is getting rusty, the handle in a mild form of deterioration, and the edge is dulling....

The blade is starting to loose it’s keen ability, and it’s strong temper, and it knows it.... only to fight on and never give up.

A loud clashing noise occurs! The sword encounters a foe, a much younger, keen foe. Its blade sharp and shines with a blinding light! The handle of dark ebony and copper. The old sword has shattered, finally. It accepts defeat, to it’s own surprise. It realizes it is time; it does not fight it. It was to be.

 

-Liam Hoffman
 

[Frank Turley]

While visiting Edinburgh castle in Scotland a few years ago, I saw exhibited the Honours of Scotland, the royal crown, sword of state, and the scepter. The sword was quite long and impressive, but had a crude lap weld in its center. The cold shuts were quite evident. Near the sword was its scabbard, and it had a break in it corresponding in placement to the weld in the sword. I asked the museum guard whether he knew anything about it, and he knew zip.

 

I now read on Wikipedia that the sword and scabbard were of Italian manufacture and were presented to Scotland by Pope Julius II in 1507. In 1652, Cromwell's troops were getting close to the castle, and the keepers of the sword thought that it might be taken by them. In order to better conceal it, they broke it in half.