The Swordsman
A swordsman crosses into battle,
His sword is his weapon,
And his armor is his protection.
He defeats man after man,
And he tells stories of his brave battles.
But in his heart,
He is not strong.
Though he might think so,
His heart is not rock of which he pulled his sword from.
His heart is soft and tender,
Waiting for the hard outer surface to be broken.
Only one person can do this,
And it’s the one he loves.
His protection is his armor,
Like the one he loves is his protection.