Winter in the badlands
A king with sword in hand,
Fires burning all around
Red claret blood stains the ground,
Many lay dead making no sound
Killed by swords or scewered on a spear,
Dismembered bodies says something awful happened here
Yet in these brutal times no one shed a tear,
The mighty king was the master of fear,
And killing for power and domination
Was his determination,
But there will come a time when he will be laying too
On a battlefield of blood it true,
Defeated by someone with the same intent
And his body will also be wrent,
And the fear he spread will be at an end.
That was a joy to read
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Thanks very much my friend 🙏 Faux
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Your fluidity of creating amazes me every time. Seems effortless, tapped directly into poetic source code. 🙏
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Thanks very much, I am humbled by your kind words my friend 💖🙏 Faux
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😚🙏💖🌀🌊✨
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