A poem about sepukku

 

In shadows deep, where honor lies,

Amidst the whispers of ancient skies,

A tale unfolds of valor and grace,

Of sacrifice in a sacred place.

 

Sepukku, the dance of the noble soul,

Where blades meet flesh, a story untold,

A symphony of courage, a poignant recital,

Aching beauty in this ritual vital.

 

With gentle touch, the katana gleams,

Reflecting life’s frailty, shattered dreams,

The warrior kneels, his spirit aflame,

Seeking redemption, cleansing the shame.

 

His heart beats wild, a thunderous drum,

Bound by duty, fate’s cruel sorcery strum,

As syllables of honor escape his lips,

A melody of defiance, a soul’s eclipse.

 

A burst of wind, a moment’s grace,

His samurai spirit, forever embrace,

In crimson rivers, he finds solace deep,

His legacy engraved, a vow to keep.

 

For in his fall, an ascent so grand,

A tapestry woven in grains of sand,

His spirit soars, released from its plight,

A phoenix reborn in the darkest night.

 

Oh, sepukku, emblem of ancient might,

With pain and penance, the soul takes flight,

A testament to love, honor, and grief,

A tragic spectacle that grants no relief.