samurai
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You,
Who had covered me gently while I slumbered in fragrant spring
I used to have visions
of my success
with a Sword in hand.
A samurai of sorts.
My Sword was strong
so my Senses too.
Through my Sword,
my Self was strong.
As I Sensed more
The katana was a work of art;
Every sword was unique.
Its point could pierce a heart
And allow the mute to speak.
