Sharpened sword, but keeps it sheathed.
Unto he this world’s bequeathed.
A dangerous son is he.
By far more than we can see.
Holds means of mass destruction.
Tearing down all obstructions.
His darkness is in plain sight.
But he chose to walk the light.
Aims for highest good he can.
Perils near and far he scans.
Nurtures child with one hand.
While the other slays a man.
He protects the ones he loves.
For their needs he puts above.
His weapons used are his words.
Gainst discord he often girds.
Words precisely ployed and picked.
Else these arms can self-inflict.
Well placed steps on his approach.
And truth beyond all reproach.
Keeping words practiced and sharp.
Fathomed verse strings from his harp.
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