A Sword

I walk away from the field.
My sword is dripping with blood.
The wounds I earned I no longer feel.
My sword is colored with blood.
I fought a very fierce battle.
My sword is dripping with blood.
I fought over mere cattle.
My sword is colored with blood.
Brave warriors I have killed.
My sword is dripping with blood.
Their breathing now has stilled.
My sword is colored with blood.
Only six others survived.
My sword is dripping with blood.
Yet they had almost died.
My sword is colored with blood.
My sword is dripping with blood.
Dripping with blood.
My sword is colored with blood.
Colored with blood.
The blood of others.

scl 12/3/1999