Armed into battle, I need a weapon that’ll protect me.

All the beasts and demons on the quest require something to prevent me from dying during the war.

A sword is the first thing that comes to mind.

Not one made from ice, steel or wood.

A sword of love.

Fuck it, make the shield and armour from love too.

Because that’s what’ll tame all these self-debilitating monsters.

Times that involves heartbreak and emotional pain that I want to put the sword on myself.

But the sword is made of love this time.

So even when I want to take it on myself, it’s healing me.

It results as self-love because it’s needed more than anything during any turmoil when I am required to stand up to battle these fuckers head on.

It’s me vs. me.

The ego in me screams “FUCK YOU!”, and I love too bud.

It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be incredible.

The sword of love is here to stay.

Love Tofe