April 10, 2011
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MY voice is my sword, my heart is my shield, my sickness is my weakness my strength I will build.

I give my enemy a chance to think, as they get nervous in sand they sank.

I stretch my way through the worrisome woods and pray and kneel, as a samurai should. Last standing is sense and I my pride strong only but weak to see my enemy I won’t take a peak. My blade is my force through harm it will slice I give them a warning I will not speak twice.

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