The Duel

Honor bound lords of pride
To whom great power and wealth abide
Face to face and stance before
No hope for one to love abhore

For in deaths deadly duel
Be thee either a master or a fool
For armed with silent blade
Its sharp bit not long evade

The victors sword poised now tame
His victims blood sliced he lame
And pierced thee throigh they heart aflame
His body slumped he down in shame