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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=471450" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Pleas of a Claymore II</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Have you ever seen a saber? <br>Took so much beating<br>In a plethora of derision<br>As the hands pounded his convictions<br>Against the feral adversary<br>Of his stale conqueror, <br>Lackadaisical and crestfallen<br>But still fawning in a lash back<br>To find the elusive direst<br>Of his tethering fate, <br>And his silver blood spilled<br>And scintillated in stellar<br>Like the mistral tears of a maiden.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And some people esteemed it<br>Musing in avarice for the clout<br>That this claymore possessed<br>Despite of the scarred visage<br>Or perhaps, because of the incisions<br>And they would lather the lacquer<br>Of his chipped and dying blades<br>To thaw the poignancy<br>And bend him down to his knees<br>Rasping upon the stance<br>Of defensive resistance.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The surrender of a saber<br>Would stab his own soul<br>And the hero inside<br>And his parched tragedies<br>Would whittle and fritter away<br>Into the very zenith of cusps<br>To become a despondent weapon<br>In the final incarnation of a claymore<br>But the hands forget<br>Or sometimes do not care<br>What the saber was<br>And seize him in their cradles<br>Fervently seeking bloodshed<br>In favor of their legendary conquest.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Have you ever seen a saber? <br>Malleable with a sole graze<br>As the hands guided itself<br>Down his glacial crassness<br>Reckoning the beatings <br>In the crevasses of his edges<br>Ravening upon the triumphs<br>That the saber gave them<br>And in spite of the disease<br>The saber would plead<br>To be held once again<br>And take the brunt and blames.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And when the hero bequeaths<br>The glory of his subsistence<br>Coming clean and pristine<br>While the downtrodden friend<br>Smother in the draping <br>Of the chrysalis in his scabbard<br>The claymore would plead<br>In profound reiteration<br>To be held once again; <br>Have you ever heard the hilt of a saber<br>Call for euthanasia?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Norman+Santos">Norman Santos</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=471450" data-title="Pleas of a Claymore II de Norman Santos" data-description="Have you ever seen a saber? 
Took so much beating
In a plethora of derision
As the hands pounded his convictions
Against the feral adversary
Of his stale conqueror, 
Lackadaisical and crestfallen
But still fawning in a lash back
To find the elusiv..."></div>
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