She Lived By the Sword

She lived by the sword and she died by the sword, Her friends just watching her fade away Their iron eyes still looked to their lords While on the ground, her broken body lay. Her tongue was sharp while she lay alive Her body built like stone In every battle (more than thirty-five) She always fought alone She fought alone and she thought alone When, in truth, she was never alone Always accompanied into battle thrown With often a scream, but never alone I came across her after a duel that night And I knew she never gave up in flight Her pieces glittered in the light And so this poem now I write She lived by the sword and she died by the sword Her friends just watching her fade away But it all was explained in a single word. For how can one go alone into battle and yet never be alone And always struggle but never fight How can one go so gentle into that good night How can one live by the sword and die by the sword And be independent while serving one’s lord Unless she is truly a sword