Topic: The Lonely Samurai
As he took his stance,
There were none to advance,
He grabbed hold of the hilt,
His opponents stuck in a trance.
As he removed the sheif ,
His sword cried for blood,
His hands were swift,
And soon there was a flood
His opponent was inferior,
to such a great warrior,
From the sweat of his face,
He was surely a disgrace.
He walked through the flood of blood.
with a trudge,
The attempt of fleeing was a dud.
The sword was merciless.
As it slid to the man,
Thus was a symbol of dread,
because now that man is dead.
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Call_Me_Kira
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