The Lady and the Swords

I keep getting these flashes
    every second of the way
like barbed wire lashes
     Of Moments long passed, even if they may

The blade sways and falls
    Every Blow... One's entire life it can calibrate
Of how one prepares and stalls
    Every blow... Sometimes alert sometimes desperate

The interim is a myriad of shrapnels
    Are these images of the falling blade?
Or memories of blade storms
    Its sometimes the cold of the falchion that keeps us sharper...
The reverie otherwise can drown you in sound and sword.

Fear, it teaches, not to dismiss.
The memory of pain when one misses.
    The memory of relief at a parry
The spasm when the sword lodges
    And the jubilation when one dodges.

This is when the magic happened...
    Amidst the anticipation of the blow...
That interim is all that one controls...
    That's when i noticed her... The fair Lady Silence.
Amidst all the ogres of memories around her.
    A glacial beauty, venerable shrine of knowledge.
For the first time, nothing else existed...

On this duel with Time, I could hear every breath,
    and other things as well.. bones and Heartbeats,
The swerving blades seemed slower this time,
    I saw them a mile away, I seemed faster
I fixed my gaze on her... with every breath
    existence fogged the blades into oblivion...thereafter.