Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Way of Warrior.

Rode upon his fine white horse,
There was a Warrior once,
Dauntless in war and capable in truce,
Nothing could make him loose,
Holding sharp sword in his hand;he move,
To cut and slash opponents in ruse,

Fearless in combat but fearsome in love,
Afraid to express his feelings to some,
Lost in  thought;he was captured by foe,
Got his savor;conceiving of beloved's eye,
Unruffled he trod to meet his torture,
Hanged till death was his fortune.

                         THE END
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