Oh, ye who wields my soul
Sharp tongue that bites and stings –
And leaves a cut that draws life blood
With your poignant edge you sing
Slice through the air, slice through the wood
…to fall upon the floor
A toss too weak for it to stick
“To victory!” then I swore!
I grip your neck more tightly too
And swing conviction free
The target stands, a fortress tall
That masticated slice of tree!
Solid iron meets the wall
…and tossed triumphantly
A throw too high, a throw too fast
Brings you quickly back to me!
I raise you up behind my head
A furrow crossed my brow
My focus lean, my limbs were still
As still as they’d allow
My blood it coursed right through my brain
A steely look had I –
The axe – it soared – an angry edge
This time was not awry
A solid thump, it landed firm
A satisfying try!
For there it stood in clear daylight
I had landed my first bull’s eye!