Sword

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There's a demon in front of me,
And he ahs a wicked smile.
With a laugh he asks me,
"What are you going to do?"
In front of me there is a sword,
It glows brightly, knowing the answer.

There is a demon,
His eyes are black and his teeth are yellow.
He casts a large shadow,
And I feel many hands grab me.

Grabbing the sword I rushed towards him,
Grabbing his own sword he meets me in battle.
Each attack I make, he does the same,
Exhausted and tired my eyes start to blur.

There is a demon,
His wicked grin comes to mind as he swings his sword.
The shadow he casts does the same,
And the hands that grab me turn to shackles.

The sword comes closer and I feel death's cold hands,
Clenching my teeth I evade his attack as I swing my own sword.
I feel a warm liquid as the Demon falls.
My sword dissappears and so does he.

There was a demon in front of me,
He had a wicked smile.
He asked me a question that I had no answer to.
But when I found my answer,
My eyes opened and I was laying in my own bed.

With a new found resolve I get ready for the day.

With a new found resolve I pave a my way into the new day.





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