[Start] [intro: Solemn piano and low strings. The blade fragments are revealed with ritual gravity.] Steel wrapped in cloth. A name within mine chest. This night knows well the man I was ... and am. [verse: Quiet arrangement. Frog confesses shame with restrained phrasing.] I was the youth who faltered from the blow. He was the man all Guardia did know. He took the stroke. I carried on the years. Mud on mine honor. Salt in mine tears. They call me knight... [Pause] Nay... I know what I spared: Not only life, but proof that I was scared. I kept my breath, a poor and stolen thing. He went to silence. I to withering. [verse: Memory of Cyrus enters. Broader phrasing with shadowed staging.] I see his hand upon the hilt once more, Steady as judgment, certain to the core. I hear him still: “Stand fast now. Hold thy ground.” Yet I was less than even that small sound. I took his loss and wore it as a chain. I bent mine head and made a home of pain. I hid in reeds. I spoke as half a man. And called it fate, because I feared to stand. [chorus: Expansive lament. The question of worth and honor.] What is a blade in a craven hand like mine? What is an oath once broken out of time? What is a name I bear yet failed to defend? Tell me, old steel — can such a man still mend? Ohhh... If there yet lives one faithful stroke in me, One breath unruled by dread or misery, Then let it wake here, in this sundered light. Let me stand forth. Let me be worthy — knight. [bridge: Direct address to Cyrus. Almost spoken at first.] Cyrus... A thousand nights I have relived thy fall. Thy final cry. My fear beneath it all. I cursed that field. I cursed the fatal hour. But most I cursed mine own lacking power. No more the margin. No more bowed and still. No more a heart that trembles from its will. Set forth the pieces. Let mine eyes endure The man I failed... and what remains unsure. [build: The Masamune becomes a vow, not just a weapon.] Bring forth the fragments. Set them in the flame. Piece joined to piece, and shame joined unto name. Not for vain praise. Not to make clean my past. Not for a tale told kindly at the last. For every step I should have dared to make. For every bond I had no right to break. For him who stood where I could not abide. For him who fell — while I, in fear, survived. [chorus: Full-throated oath. This is the earned release.] Now is the hour. Now let my spirit stand. No more the marsh shall keep me from the land. Set in these hands what once was rent in twain. I swear by him: I shall not fail again. Ahhh— Though I have knelt in sorrow and disgrace, Though years have hollowed out this coward’s place, Give me this steel and one just road made true — And I shall walk it. Yea, I shall see it through. [outro: Stripped-down center-stage resolve.] Shard unto shard. And name unto dear name. Mercy was given. Becoming is the flame. So mark me now... I was not ready then. But by his light... I am ready now. [End]
