I hate the idea of killing,
Everyone assumes I am willing
But I really hate it.
Is it because I look scary?
But my appearance greatly varies
Sometimes even daily.
I am sharp,
Jagged,
Sullied.
I do not want this life,
I do not want to take any more either.
I want never to be taken from my sheath,
To be washed of the wrongful deeds
I was forced to execute.
Why must I be a tool of death?
A bringer of The End;
A harbinger of doom?
Nearly everyone seems afraid of me,
I only want to be of help.
I do not bring destruction.
I am merely a pawn,
Blamed for it all.
From dusk ‘till dawn
I am shunned.
Will no one ever pick me up with understanding?
With the knowledge of what I have done
But also,
Of what I could do?
It only matters how you wield me.
I am an obedient blade.
Please stop using that against me
I do not want to be evil…
Then why are you stabbing with me yet again?
Let me be used for peace as was my original use!
Allow me to be the knife of salvation,
Not of damnation.