The waves bore witness. The storm clouds arriving at sunset showed unusual interest. The shadow of a departing titan passed on indifferently.
What did these samarai say to each other on that beach? Did they share commiserations of the karma that brought them there? Shed a tear of remorse for the necessary death sure to come? Or were they all about the business.
Masters that they were, surely a handful of heartbeats is all it would last. One katana slicing apart an opponent who commited only one mistake. One falls, one walks away.
With only a storm-swept sky and a sunset-reflecting sea to remember.
although
this is my end
grieve not
you will join me
soon enough
Afterword, for one is necessary when the realization of blood spilled on the sand becomes flushed with the incoming tide.
Are we who we say we are? Or do the facts of our words and actions speak for us despite our own testimony?
One still remains fallen, one still walks away.
even as
our sins cry out
we protest
but what we have done
we have done
Melissa hosts a compelling Tuesday Poetics over at dVerse.
The Pub is open! Come join us!
Frank J. Tassone 
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