The Pen vs. The Sword


Look at you.

Thought you could take me with that sharp blade of yours,

those efficient edges made to slice and dice and destroy and discard and displace victims, scattering them all across your theatre of war.

You take the battle to the physical, materials get damaged; you can spur blood.

Remnants of your victims can slide down your metal.

You use intimidation and fear of injury to obtain your power,

used by generals and warriors who knew no other way to conquer than by physical destruction.


Do you believe you can match up to my might?

You attack needing the strength of your wielder's arm to win.

I attack the mind from a distance; my words can displace your mind.

I destroy by language.


Can you top that?


Look at you.

Thought you could take me with those sharp words of yours,

taking diction as your method to wipe out competition.

You are subtle and fight indirectly, a coward's way hiding behind the shadows of pleasantries and innuendo.

You're all about hidden meaning; you make your foes believe one when it is really two; fine print you make so opponents can miss or misinterpret it.

You use language as the source to become a god changing the minds by changing the meaning of words. A sly competitor you are, but will never defeat me because I am the physical, and you need me to function. Your concepts and letters mean nothing without my blade to make it so in the world. I was here before your pretty word assassinations existed. I attack the mind up close; my blade can displace your brain.


Can you top that?

© 2019 by Trent Rhodes

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