The sword fell swiftly
Confidently
Purposefully
It did not flinch or shake or pause
The cord had been clamped
But only one wields the blade
It is held with a ferocity even they did not expect
“It is finished!!” they shout
The wielder both sobs and screams
As the other side floats suddenly into blackness
The wielder is surprised by the silence
The peace
And the sense of calm they suddenly feel
Dawning on them, how easy it was
A slow smile crept to their entire face
The sword was placed securely into it’s sheath, by their side, ready at any moment should it be required, yet safely secured.
Away they walk, a slight skip to the step
Their head held high
And their back to the the black.
Little Wren 