Final Fight
B
Barry Middleton
0
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nothing is heard above a cruel wind
it drifts in from the north
its whisper turns to a howl
it is the shadow of a prowling wolf
a pagan chant mingles with terror
despair intoxicates with fear
I vanquish this pale army of ghosts
with salvation's prayer
the enemy is at my gate
my knife is ready for the final fight
Bu şiiri puanla
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