Short poem about claymore

The rain pelts the hard cobbled ground

Click clack of the my sliver boots

Humans run to find shelter in the buildings of the town

They all stare at me as if I a monster

I am, the sliver uniform and my eyes give it away

The sword on my back cries my nickname

Claymore, sliver eye witch monster half breed

All those names they give organisation and us

Do they remember that once I was once that I was like them?

My blonde colourless hair used to breath the a healthy brown,

Beneath my sliver eyes are lovely haunting green of my mother

Yes my mother and father passed on an attack on village

By yoma

The once haunting calm peaceful essence of village life

That I was assumed to the smell of fresh bread in my father bakery

The smile on my mum lips every time she saw me

Clare she smiled happily

Give this bread to your brother quick before he goes to school

Now that just a hunting dream

They kicked me out of town due to their stupid fear of yoma

Then I wondered endlessly till I was a yoma play toy

Then came my savour Teresa

She was like me

Her sliver eyes screamed to end

Pain that she could endure no more

She rescued me from people

And I rescued her humanity

The nights we travel from town to town saving ungrateful people

Till she tried to find me a place a stay then the bandits attacked

Killing everyone in the village I tried settling in

She came back and saved me form them but a price her life

After failing to submit to her execution

She was free from the organisation

But only for a short time until they number 2-5

Noel and Sophia held no chance against her after their attempted strike

Irene held out a little longer against her until she fell

But that one claymore Priscilla

Fell but she soon attacks Teresa again and again I watched from a distance as she unlashed more yoki until she lost control and with it she passes her limit

I remember her begging then bang she beheaded Teresa and with that she became the monster she is today but at the price of her humanity

And killing the other 3 claymores

Now all I carried is a deep and bitter anger to wards that monster

Now I carry Teresa flesh and blood in me and hopes of slaying that monster,

Exiting the town they all stare

May be were all to different

Now I am just a number in the ranks of the organisation

A symbol round my neck and sword

I am number 47 in the organisation Clare

Successor of Teresa flesh and blood

And the bearer of Irene right arm

after my own was destroyed

And soon I will take Priscilla head

I am Clare