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Rated: E · Poetry · Action/Adventure · #1706054
A call to arms for all who tire of the charming song of snakes...
As fire burns, The ember turns,
To heat this sacred flame.

A man apart, A man of heart,
So much more than my name.

This witches spell, In time will tell,
The reason I am bold.

With setting sun, The night is done,
I step into the cold.

The songbird sings, The church bell rings,
Of blessings from above.

They close our eyes, And wear their guise,
To twist our words of love.

A promise made, Will fall and fade,
Upon the tongue of snakes.

A gun in hand, And post to stand,
Does not a soldier make.

They smile and grin, Despite their sin,
And hide their evil ways.

The flock misled, Forgets their dead,
And waits for end of days.

So many lost, The heavy cost,
To clever wicked men.

They've lost my trust, I'll grind to dust,
This liar, with my pen.

No clever phrase, Nor turn of page,
Will bring a lasting peace,

So run and hide, Or join my side,
I march to kill the beast...



Line Count: 28
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