- Non-Erotic Poetry
- The Battle
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The enemy came charging forth,
like wasps emerging from the nest.
Some ancient wrong, or perhaps some slight.
I do not know if they are right.
But they have come, and now we fight.
During that endless painful night.
I swung my blade with practiced skill.
Biting true, it marks my kill.
A crazy dance, a whirlwind of pain.
I aim to kill, not to maim.
I fought hard, and I fought true.
Through the horde, my blade cut through.
The battle had an unholy beat.
And finally, the dead fell like leaves to my feet.
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