Sonnet of Swords
A battle of clamoring,
the clashing of swords,
everyone stammering,
appalled by the gore.
The battle draws near,
as a blade from the sheath,
the citizens cheer,
for the Guard Master Chief.
He picks up his shield,
to strike at his foe,
the enemy did yield,
in fear of the blow.
No one must long,
for the sword and it's song.