Heart and Sword

You have won.
I forfeit this duel to the death.
I no longer wish to fight you,
--only to take my own life.

You fought long and hard,
--though you knew it not.
I fought hard, too,
--but never took strike when chance arose.

Now the pain is none by my own.
I give, you have won.
I lay my sword to rest,
--kneel before you, exposed.
I only ask you be swift.

I wait for the strike.
“Do it,” I beg.
If I cannot have you,
--I want nothing with you.

Strike me from your life,
--thus striking you from mine.
I wish you to be rid of me,
--and I of you.

So please strike, now.
Release me of this humility.
I give myself to you,
--always have.

I wield my heart,
--and you a sword.
I offer mine first,
--then you present yours.

My hope is withered.
My heart—no more.
Strike me now,
--end this life
--I have already ended.

My mind has died with my heart.
Bleed my living carcass dry.
Let me move on,
--and die with simple dignity.

Will you strike, yet?
What yields you?
Laying down your weapon, you show mercy,
--but life is no mercy, Sir!
Death is the only way out, now.

I wait for you to strike,
--kneeling before you,
--forever waiting,
--for the sweet release of death,
--but your word.