Sword Master

The swordsman stood with pride and grace, A glint of steel upon his face, His sword, the finest ever made, A thing of beauty, none could evade. The blade, so sharp, it cut the air, A sight to see, so rare and fair, Its edge, so keen, it could slice through, Anything that came into view. The hilt, adorned with gems and gold, A masterpiece, for all to behold, Its elegance, divine and true, A work of art, it shone anew. The swordsman wielded it with skill, A master of the blade, with iron will, His sword, the envy of all around, A treasure, so fine and renowned. No foe could stand against his might, For with his sword, he won the fight, The most elegant, beautiful, divine and sharp, A true masterpiece, the swordsman's harp.