A fun little bit of trivia about me: the first thing I ever wrote was a story called The Magic Sword. I was probably 5-6 years old and I wrote it in one of those marble composition notebooks you can buy in the stationary section of the grocery store. It was about a kid who gets sucked into a video game - very on brand for me!
This poem has pretty much nothing in common with that, save for the name. I suppose there is a bit of a video game connection, as well, as I was smack dab in the middle of a Legend of Zelda kick when I originally wrote this. I mostly just wanted to write something with an adventure/fantasy theme. "Swords" scream that to me.
There waits a magic sword in a lost and ancient grove.
It's overgrown with weeds and marred by rust.
Make no mistake though, youth!
If you can pull it free,
There's no blade out there better you should trust.
When steel songs sing amidst the air,
Its voice rises higher.
Piercing through the battle din and roaring like a choir.
No shield or armor stand its match,
No foe its equal neither.
It thwarts the evil plans that hatch,
When villains scheme in spires.
It waits now for you friend;
Adventurer in the making.
It rests in its stone pedestal,
A fruit ripe for the taking.
Search the world and find it,
And on the day you do,
Know the world awaits you,
And all the good you'll do.
