By the Sword

I have healthy respect for sharpened steel,

For it slices through truth and tales.

It leaves no scar, just a wound bled fresh,

And hope of a future curtails.

God has taught me how to die,

As He Himself met an end.

One day I know I will do the same,

And bid you farewell my friend.

Whether I die at the sword,

Or alone in sleep at my bed -

I will find the peace that comforts my soul,

Where at last I lay my head.