Disclaimer: If I owned it Bakura would've fallen for Ryou and have had a lot of fluffy tendershippy moments.
My Sword
My father gave me a sword one day.
He told me to use it to protect Sister and Mother.
I asked him what the sword's name was;
He said it was named Love.
My father left me and Mother and Sister;
I was left to protect them with Love.
Mother and Sister left me soon after;
I failed to protect them.
Death came after them and me.
When Death turned to me,
He attempted to slash me with his sword.
I used my sword named Love
And parried his blow.
I asked Death what the name of his sword was.
Death said that his sword has taken many lives;
Death's sword was known as Despair.
Using Love that Father left me,
And strengthening it with
Memories of Sister and Mother,
I blocked every attack Death made with Despair.
I used Love and pushed Death away;
His Despair would not take me today.
Father forgot to warn me…
To tell me that Love is a double-edged sword.
I found that out when he came.
He carried a shield with him.
He was alluring and manipulative.
I could tell he was hurting,
But he used a mask which he hid behind.
I found that the mask was named Ferocity,
And was made by threads of Sorrow and Confusion.
I asked him what his shield's name was,
And he buried himself deeper behind it,
Refusing to answer me.
I learned that the shield's name was Darkness.
He made it with the molten metal of Hatred
And added the strength of Death's Despair
And coated it with the paint of Cruelty.
I gave him my sword called Love
For I wished for him to be protected,
To fight against what he hid behind his Darkness so desperately.
At first, he refused.
He rammed me with his Darkness,
Attempted to keep me and my sword away.
Then he got quiet.
His mask called Ferocity grew tougher,
And his shield named Darkness grew stronger,
As he hid and plotted.
One day
When I offered him Love again,
He snatched it quickly from my hands.
His Ferocity melted into a malicious smile.
He used my sword called Love against me.
I had nothing to defend myself with,
I had no shield of Darkness,
No sword of Despair,
No sword named Love.
This is when I learned
That my Love was a double-edged sword.
He used Love and hacked at me
Giving me cuts too deep to describe,
Gouging me with wounds too painful for words.
I used my Tears to heal
The wounds made by Love.
No matter how much he hid,
I saw that he had wounds too,
Made when he cut me with Love.
But his mask called Ferocity was too thick,
He had no Tears to heal them.
With no Tears to heal him,
His Darkness attempted to grow stronger
And his Ferocity tried to grow more feral.
His Darkness and Ferocity
Couldn't protect him from injuries
He made himself.
He had no Tears,
Just unending pain.
I wanted to give him my Tears
And take away his pain,
To heal his unbearable wounds.
His mask named Ferocity
Growled and spat at me
While his shield called Darkness
Shoved me away.
With each growl and each shove,
Ferocity and Darkness grew weaker.
The materials used to make them
Became clear to me.
I saw the melting metal of Hate,
I saw Despair's weakening strength,
I saw the chipping paint of Cruelty,
Soon his Darkness would be of no use.
I saw the unraveling threads
Of Sorrow and Confusion,
Soon his Ferocity will reveal his face.
He tried to cut me deeper,
To push me away
And rebuild
His shield called Darkness
And his mask named Ferocity.
Instead, they grew weaker and smaller,
Leaving behind a man
With scared and lonely eyes
And skin blemished with scars and wounds.
He huddled into himself,
Shivering as I approached him,
Getting close enough to touch him.
He flinched when I placed a hand on him.
My sword named Love lay beside us.
He tried to flee from me and my sword,
But was too weak to do so.
What is wrong? I asked.
It hurts, he replied.
His voice shook as his weak body did.
I had a sword like yours, he continued,
A long time ago, I had it.
But it hurt me, he whimpered,
And I replaced it with my shield called Darkness.
I hid my wounds, my weakness,
Not behind the sword called Love,
But behind my mask called Ferocity.
I cried for him,
Because he had no Tears left to shed.
My Tears healed some of his wounds,
And lifted some of the pain.
I taught him how to used my sword called Love.
How to fight against Despair and Loneliness
And to prevent wounding himself
By protecting someone.
He chose to protect me.
He learned to carry the sword called Love,
But added a bit of Adulation to make it stronger.
It was then, that my sword called Love
Became our sword called Love.
Jaazi: Soooo, how was it? Good? Bad? Unbearably boring? As you can probably tell, this is a tendershipping poem thing. Oh, and expect an update for "Union of Gryffindor and Slytherin" soon! Leave a review please!