The Woundhealer’s Holder

There can only ever be one in every lifetime.

She is the only of her kind, a life swordswoman.

Ancient rituals kept to heart she cuts through every predicament,

A mythical, Legendary blade in tow — the Woundhealer.

This blade refuses toxicity, it laughs my troubles away.

It heals a soul with a quick exchange,

It consumes the darkness of a lifetime,

And she asks for nothing in return — a truly admirable duo.

When she unleashes it’s power, I can always hear it being unsheathed.

That distinct harmonic sound will remain in my memory till the day I am consumed.

I miss that auditory sensation, of being dragged away from life.

To follow in the footsteps of her blade, even for only two days a year, is a blessing.

I wish I could aid her in their quest… but that beauty is far beyond me.

The swordsman? Or the Blade? You ask…

Both; the two are one. Together they are truly sublime:

She holds everything together, and the blade carves through any adversary

Together they are indestructible — they rebound from any stumble.

Together they bypass everything… she doesn’t need me.

But maybe I haven’t watched closely enough.

All I know is that she pretends to not care.

She throws her nose far into the air.

Looks away, and stumbles whilst your back is turned.

Regardless they’ve already healed me thrice, it is asking too much for more.

I refuse to get in their way — I made my decision.

l will continue on my lonesome, far, far away.

She, who walks an unwoven path, with an unseen blade of infinite power.

The Woundhealer’s Holder.