Day Twenty-Eight: I really liked the curtal sonnet from the other day, so I'm doing another, with a slightly different rhyme scheme. Yay poetry!
Two fires have been lit, both roaring now.
Between them stand two children, born as friends.
The flames reach out to teach them, show them how
One day they each will be the other's end.
Each child receives a spear, some sharpened bough,
The other's dastardly attacks to fend.
The children hold their weapons, purpose clear,
But cannot comprehend how this could be.
"That's him, my dear friend, whom I hold most dear!"
But the flames burn hotter, force them to see:
"He is not the same."
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Playing on my iTunes at this very moment:
The Tallest Man on Earth, King of Spain
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