August 30, 2010
If only thy didn’t get caught
Burrowing graves dusk till dawn
Force thy caged slumber on hay cot
Beat a priest with thy pawn

If only thy pleaded with judge
But gaudy he’d bellow “no!”
Cower away as if thy scourge
Carp of thy stench call thy foe

If only thy cursed to panic
Swear to come back
And make thyself a picnic
Throw thy toga bloodstained black

Come thy foe, do not devour alone
We will eat pears and drink ale
Then, tonight we’ll dig for bones
The ale is not poisoned, thou seem pale

With noble demeanor thy confess
To this one foul thing
Thy game of war is only chess
Now bow to thy soot king

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