Poetry: Patience

A vicious battle drawn

Yet not always waged in blood

Patience is a weapon

Armed with iron shield

Sharper than a polished sword

Unscathed by battles worn

Yet aged from darker blows

Still stands, a lurking danger

Even laid as sheathed a blade

Quiet whispers guard the quakes

Still as the lake in the silent snow

Deep as a crevice of earth

A hunter of falling game

Tears down the Vipers web

Yes, patience is a weapon , sheathed by leather worn

Yet not every battle ends in steel

Still all shall end when Time demands