The Silent Samurai, a stoic form,
Cloaked in honor, weathering storm.
His eyes, like pools of deepest night,
Reflect a warrior's inner light.
His blade, unbloodied, speaks of might,
A threat unspoken, sharp and bright.
Each breath a whisper, controlled and keen,
A life devoted, a purpose seen.
Words are scarce, for actions speak,
A silent vow, a promise to keep.
Loyalty burns, a fire untold,
For duty's call, for stories old.
Through cherry blossoms, or battle's rage,
He walks a path on history's page.
The Silent Samurai, a legend's core,
Forever bound by honor's roar.
About the Creator
Buzu
Verses sculpted from the heart, I'm a poet navigating emotions with ink-stained fingertips. Crafting tales that dance between reality and dreams, my words paint a symphony of feelings in the canvas of life. 📜✨ #PoetLife #Wordsmith
Comments (1)
Whoaaa, this was incredible! Loved your poem!