Reflections of the Past

My sword  swings quick above my head
trails of blood lay against both of my cheeks
I listen to the sound of my heartbeat
as I sway from one foot to another
I preform a dance for my pleading victim
humming softly I lick the sweat from my upper lip
and close my eyes
while telling myself "you can do this your ready"
I hear the slide of my blade cut against cold glass
forcing me to push harder
my screams of agony echo around me
as the metal pushes through layers of protection
hearing the gentle snap
I finally open my eyes
only to see the beautiful sword that I hold so dearly
bent and chipped
no longer a strong and pliant weapon
only a sad reminder that
know matter how hard you try
to swipe
kill
the reflection in front of you
it always ends up winning...