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Cold knight

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A knight suited in armor,
Guarded and shielded,
Weapon in hand,
Ready to fight,
Slashes up and swings to the right,
Head cut off and chest opens,
Your head is his for the taking,
Along with your soul, and flesh,
But he’ll wait till your hearts cold,
Because he hates that warm feeling when ever he holds a heart,
So he’ll feast on your flesh, and eat your soul,
Till your heart is cold enough for him to hold





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