There Is No Point

There is no point to it
And by that, I mean this sword
How can I stand up in battle
Against horrible thoughts
And by a sword I mean a love
That may as well not be felt
As dull as you've made this blade
It will never be feared
Never sought for the fight
So I dig this dull blade into my own skin
And I'll be the only one to feel it
Where it could have brought cities down, darling
It's just killing me now
And by my own will
Do I let it
Do I swear I'll never do it again
I will shelf this sad object
The useless piece of anything
Other than what it could really be
However, it is enough to cause pain
And with the right sort of pressure
Has penetrated me
And will one day rip right through...