He
wields his indignation as a fencing riposte.
His
wire mask worn to defy any cut
And shrouds
eyes that seek weakness - in most.
With bad
intention – a parry; a remise at the exposed gut.
A
point-in-line response to fend threat and to set presence
A final
fatal thrust through his dilettante essence
Prevailing;
vanquishing o’er ill casts
Of a
beast-master and its feign pasts.
Wake - young
prince from your deep sleep
The
mares need no longer have - nor keep!
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