Thursday, April 17, 2008

A Riddle: Blade

I was born of soil,

My mother held all the riches.

Coveted by Daedalus, by Hephaestus,

She left no suitor wanting.

My father gripped me by the nose,

Did as was needed to make me what I am.

Thus bound, then he used me.

Changing through the ages,

Brittle as a youth was I.

From the dawn of Industry

Down to the age of Husbandry,

I ventured forth from bones.

I was recognized in bright stone.

Thereafter clever men made me brighter still,

Though soft.

Still I sired empire.

Wind swirls in my wake.

I part the limb, and the barley,

I sing with the warriors' paen,

And I feast with them, with all.

Men use me and I abuse them

As my father intended.

In my maturity, I achieved strength.

Companion, now, to kings and conquerors.

I was strong even after my master fell.

I could have served his enemies as easily;

Though no traitor I,

Nor choice mine.

I bite and hide, I slash.

In silence I enforce the will of men.

Say what I am.

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