The Way of the Sword

There was a time in my childhood when I was fascinated with a small pretend brass sword at my uncle's house. It seemed big to my eyes at that time, with its holster covering its shine just to snatch my chance of beholding all of it in amazement. To my surprise it wasn't sharp, as if to seize me out of the enigma whenever I thought it was real. It used to give me fleeting delusions of royalty. That trumpery with no use at all!

A gradual realization took over the perception of royalty I used to associate with the sword . It was bravery. This replacement came unintentionally and naturally when it occured to me that royalty is secondary to heroism. Royalty coalesces with bravery but never becomes a part of it. It remains ulterior to the concept of bravery. Bravery can only be embellished with sacrifice, not kingdom. 

Valiance possesses this ethereal feel to it that it remains above all, without mixing with emotions, love, belief, even 'life'. This non-attachment is unique and thus a sword has one holster and only one keeper. It is thus the adornment of the unworldly, of those who dare to bare their worthy lives on the spur of a moment. 

Heroism is Godly, inside us all just waiting to be kindled by some brass sword of wistfulness.