this poem is about Kenshin...
Crescent Moon
I view the moon
Casting its silhoulette glow
Illuminating the faces of innonocence
The crickets chirp their merry tune
Turning into a forlorn sound of misery
as steps approached.
Once again it is time to draw this sword of mine
Who is merely content at resting in its sheath
But their can be no rest
not when the steps rush to do evil
I have no choice
I must do what i don't want to
The crescent moon is my witness
It has viewed the ways of man
The bloodshed of this place that cries out from the ground
seeking peace and vengeance
My callused hands bear witness of the hours
i have practiced.
of the bloodshed that i have spilt
I know no reason except the sword
Which i shall die by if i choose this path
but i know no other path to choose
The pebbles on the stream rest peacefully
until disturbed by the steps
thrown among the side
they are ignored
abondoned except by God
who notices even those things
I don't know if what they say is true
about this God
but i can only hope that he see's me now
because the steps approach