A gentle touch. It says, "You're doing great. You are mine, and always will be." Sturm und drang becomes Quiet and calm. And love wins. Again.
The pen and the sword. We trumpet the sword. Its length. Its power. Its bigness. Thrust it in. Pull it out. Clean it. Repeat. A pen. Small. Temporary. Once its ink runs dry, Impotent. Yet its stream gives life.