T


You’ve drawn your sword
But to this battle I won’t commit
For foreign word and primal skill
I’ve sheathed my pen: thou shalt not kill
I speak in silence and oh my lord
Was smothered in your heady cloak
You’ve draw your sword and oh my lord
Bulged blue upon your weapon’s kiss,
Fell slain beneath the seaboard’s mist
Where my words rocked for harbor’s duty
And rose, unfurled, for my old beauty
Oh my lord, you’ve draw your sword
And I shall quiver, rust until
Your stupid pardon I invoke

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