In misty morning
Gloom
The second and he
Trudged out to meet the doom
That had been arranged
A duel to fill one tomb
And decide the right
He crossed swords with his
Foe
Per the honor code
Then struck by sweeping low
The rogue hopped back as
He continued his flow
With a forward thrust
The strike pierced to the
Bone
Deflected by ribs
His foe let loose a moan
As he flicked back and
Stabbed where buttons are sewn
Over softer flesh
3-16-2016
Copyright © 2016 Jonathan Hart
#songwrds #writing #poetry
