A battle, state and inconvenient,
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A battle fought so acute in pride.
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A curse or rather plague, a fever,
|
Nailed me to the fireside.
|
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At a crackling wood's spark flight to the skies,
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The tempest king, he claims the throne.
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But halts in stride as equal legions
|
Melt into the leader's tone.
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An elder king arose
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From blood soaked fallow battlefields
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With orders calm at urgent voice
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And reasoning as iron shields.
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And dreadful words it were
|
As he spoke of abandonment
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Thus I shivered as the Tempest,
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As his fever came upon my hand.
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Then swords were risen by the brave
|
As for me I rose a twig towards the skies.
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And no one would withdraw
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One's eyes were as the fiend's.
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All men in flames and zeal.
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As ire filled to burdening air.
|
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While two in brawl for the throne
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A third with grins on stainless cheeks
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In bushes watching in conceal
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Delighted of the bleak.
|
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At sudden startled,
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Dismay had dropped my twig
|
I turned down the fireside
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And the last sparks of the night
|
Lit the my paths with golden wings
|
Sensing me and my Three Neuron Kings.
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|
-----------------
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Three Neuron Kings
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Disillusion |