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I am a sword, always there at the reach of a hand. To put myself in front of your danger. To protect you. To fight for you, I guard you. To keep you safe I take all the hits that come your way. I am your sword, you reach for me when you cannot protect your self. You reach to your side to draw me out, instinct tells you that I am there, waiting to keep you safe. With every battle that I fight I become more worn. But you have not realized yet that you depend on me. And because of that, I must continue to protect you. I must stay at your side to be there when you reach for me. I am a sword always there at the reach of a hand. You leave me no time to sharpen myself, for by now I am your defense to all unhappiness great or small. You have trained yourself to be weak. While I trained myself to be strong. Perhaps the result of your weakness is my unfathomable availability. I suppose I must pay the consequence for being at your reach and keeping you unpained for all this time. So still I remain a sword. To protect you and keep you safe. I fear the day I might break from being over used. What will come of you then?