Saturday, June 07, 2008

The Hero

Brooding murky
Of a combat nigh
In brutal ruin
Gasping, weary, rising
From the crippling calm
He is
The hero
Raring to go, surely
It is not far.

Slumped in the field
He hears a clang
Of mirthful laugh
The sword blade glints
The victor
Stop he will, certainly
When it is far.

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