---

The blade

it hums a bitter song, Of all who swore

I must be wrong.

Ashes fall where voices bled,

Echoes linger with the dead.

A shadow walk

A life will never strain

Rust is not from the rain,

But from the weight of human pain.

Rust is not from the rain,

But from remeber every name

one by one, they dared to stand

Now they sleep beneath my hand.

Guided by the debts to pay.

Iron whispers, sharp and die

The forest bends, it dares not speak,

It knows the strong, it mourns the weak.

This axe, a choir of endless night,

It sings of wrongs, it feeds on fight.

And when the world forgets their cries,

The steel will guard what never die

Rust is not from the rain,

But from the weight of human pain.

Rust is not from the rain,

But from remeber every name

Its handle warm with borrowed fire,

Fed by wrath, not by desire.

one by one, they dared to stand

Now they sleep beneath my hand.