A weapon

A weapon need not be sharp to kill
Neither need it be made of steel
A clear path could be swathed
By rage of axe or wrath of club

But neither need weapon be made to kill
Murder is power turned to ill
Its power to devour turned sour
Drowned in blood, its name twisted

A sword by name is just a weapon
An axe by word an instrument
The callous hands that wield the club
Are the true sources of destruction wrought

Myriad wonders can be built
Torn asunder if so is willed
For the weapon is naught without a wielder
And its commands are those given by the holder

Indeed a weapon is a gift
Laved in power with which to sieve
To draw upon the essence around
To find survival where none could be found

Be aware
The greatest weapon is not physical
It is not one that causes great harm
Rather it's the one that endures.