The Sword's Clear Tribulation

A sword in a hand dressed in flowing white robes, spending this life seeking enlightenment in the sword and forgetting all that came before; another, able to turn clouds with one hand and rain with the other, all for that person's brief stay.

A sorrowful song, sung with fierce abandon, fades into silent grief. When love turns to hate, with wounds covering the body, what is left in the end?