Honor’s Sabre
He lay a bleeding on the ground,
The sword had cut him all around
And blood flow from his wound, it wound,
Death, it seemed in progress.
Adrenaline pumped, he rose once more,
The Sabre’s slashed, then, he did score,
Opponent lying on the floor,
But I do perhaps, digress.
Honor was the reason for,
The Sabre’s slicing, blood n gore,
Men of...
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