“Combat of Trust”

My ear was pressed,

against your chest.

I heard a war,

not of hearts,

but of the great and terrible blade,

pain.

You,

scar-bearer,

my only price.

I saw your strength,

waning.

So I gave you some of mine.

My favorite sword,

in the palm of your hand.

Did I turn into a monster?

Are you my knight,

here to slay?

What would happen,

I wonder,

if I was already gone?