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A sword will run through rib cages and crush skulls and skewer opponents like chickens, seasoning the ground with blood to swiftly cut through anything and everything that stands in its way. For every scream outside there will be cheers from within. Structures of power will tower over it, only to cower and crawl under the country as it marches forward, as friends of foes and their pathetic attempts to block its blows are mercilessly swept aside.
It is undoubtedly a weapon, one that words cannot reason with, for they are neither sharp nor blunt enough to even withstand a parry.
Or if reason could, the window for it has passed already. It has been struck down and shattered, missed by both sides in one way or another. Stained glass scarring skin.
It will be lifted up to challenge the sky among speeches, or perhaps pointed at an opponent for additional flair. Short speeches, of course, that never run longer than the sharpest edge - yelling is not talking, but it takes just as long, and there is never room for response. That's the sword's job - cutting them short, proving its deadly point.
But then the battle ends on the owner's whim.
And the sword returns home.
The blood is cleaned off carefully, not a dent can be made. The battle may be over, the foes may be defeated and beaten down and fearful yet again, and their houses will never become home; but the war demands it stays sharp, alert, ready. Just in case.
What a shame the blade was sullied by such a mess. Don’t worry, though, it did a great job. They finally learned its lesson, it did so well - after all, it's had experience as a teacher before. And they’ll in turn tell the story for years to come, in its favourite language that they just can’t come to grips with, for some reason.
And so it's sharpened and shined and polished, primed to sit back and lie in its soft and safe case, happy to rest well in a warm house, surrounded by the dearly loved family it selflessly protects, the hearts it guards with its unbroken blade.
Secretly dreading - or maybe awaiting - the corrupted land it will quickly raze, the selfish little children it will be called upon to cut down next.