death lives on, on the edge of my blade
it comes with the cold, its excruciating pain
its plain on your face, you're praying for rain
salvation? not likely, let me make it quite plain
you're to be driven to the edge, made insane
victimized is your new name failed to escape
a curse leaves your lips and heads my way
I turn and stare at it with my baleful gaze
it whimpers then cries out in a hideous way,
you're cursed most definitely for all of your days!
dangerous my habits and it serves as my name
rising again I'm beyond the call of the fates
my end was foretold but I rewrote my mortal case
the snow falls slowly and covers me up to my face
its falls and drapes me in a white sparkling cape
closer it comes to extinction written plain as day
white, then grey, my mission takes a new shape
into shades of black the operation fades
a new destiny comes a vivid picture it paints
but where will I end? fiery pits or pearly gates?
the time of questions draws to end as I clean my sword
prepared to suffer an eternity as something less but more
I made a promise to end it but I also made a vow, I swore
First do no harm but as a samurai too I made vows I now court
skirting the issue of what vow to follow and which to ward
do I allow his final request to die with honor or should it abort
should I save his life to be confined to beds forevermore?
these questions I let attack my psyche as I prepare for
my sword of choice the #10 blade from hospital stores
my conscience backed into a corner by things I abhor
my mentor lies on the table dying from dangerous spores
even if I save him he'll never again hold an ancestral sword
bound by 2 oaths I cant satisfy a solution I explore
save him in the theatre but honor his request at its core
recovering good he finally is waking on the other side
I approach his bed to explain his choices in stride
"Sensei, you can recover here or return to the riverside"
"I can provide a nurse or whatever you wish till you die"
"Im sorry but you couldnt leave without saying goodbye"
"I do have one last question for you about your daisho."
His sadness shifts as I ask "Wakizashi or Tanto?"
"My son, a great gift you give when I'd lost all hope,
I was contemplating using several things here as rope,
Please help me into my robes for no longer can I serve
I cant walk, cant breathe, and I hardly think I deserve
to rot away in a bed hooked to machines to preserve
what little remains. Now unhook these things, please,
I deserve at least to die when I choose as I please."
I unhooked him, helped him into to his robes then,
gave him what he needed to mark his death while Zen
I prepare the tatami and spread out that white cloth
pick him up and carry him to the mat leave the door locked
just after I pull his Daisho to him then leave the room
a whispered thank you follows my exit and soon
I would be rushing back to surprise at a fatal wound