Tuesday, October 8, 2013

An old poem

A feast of fortune
A laugh of languish
A tear of tears
A misfortune of malice

A take of treasures
A presence of praise
A commotion of cowards
A bramble of braise

A knight's good foot forward
A rogue's stepping back
A few flights of fancy
And a mystics mistrack

A hound of the watchkeep
A dragon so deep
The fools and their castles
The lords and their sheep

But when all is over
That which is said and done
There is but one final warrior
A bastard named Death

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