I am a Katana.
I am sharp on one side, cold, and hard.
The handle is soft and easy to grip, so long as you know how to hold me.
If you swing me wrong, I will break your wrists, and cut your flesh.
I shall be used to protect, and gain honor.
But I can also be lost, forgotten, buried, and rusted.
All it takes is for someone to keep me clean, oiled, and sharp.
Without all of this I am lost, sold, abused, dulled, held wrong.
Should that happen, I shall rust, rot, and die.