Blade culture


An old soul who remembered where I came from, born again in the wrong time.

Few will ever understand the bond between me and my knife. How I feel undressed without it.

How I see my knife as a symbol of my maturity, strength, and all the foes I had overcome…

I never once wanted them to know. I never expected them to understand. And it would all be ok if…

If you could understand how much it took for me to teach you my art, how much it meant to me that you remain safe.

It would all be ok if you understood how much it meant for me to give my knife to you.

I gave you a part of me

I taught you the most intimate art I know

It broke my heart when you returned my blade to me

The world never understanding would be ok if only you could do otherwise.

I still dream of you, and I hope my art keeps you safe. I bid you farewell my love.

Havoc

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