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A Man Versus a Brigade

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A man against a whole entire brigade

A height of seven feet with sword in hand;

Alone, but takes the space of three long blades.

His arms and legs are solid, built, tanned.

A slash from him and five would seize to breathe.

He cuts like butter right through shields and bone.

He spills enough blood in a night to clothe

A lake and 'nough at day to have it grown.

Devoted to his quest to win the clash,

He used both brain and brawn for end intent.

His strikes are planned to kill in rapid flash

and never does his fortitude get bent,

but just a hit to his Achilles heel

will cause a hope that's lost for his ideal.

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