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My Soul I



my soul hates being weak



it doesn’t care if you taunt me



but anger me,



daggers will fly from my eyes

         you will feel them as if

                    the blade was sinking in



My Soul II



I am

       Strong

                 I am

                        The Protector







a blade, quick, powerful

                       Graceful





       Smooth

Flowing as a swift stream



Relazed, movements calculated



Determined.



But soft.



My soul is,



An autumn wind.



Sharp, but smelling of good things



and summer still there.