Locks.

I drag along

History of warsongs

Dancing to drum beats

While I stomp my feet.

Can you feel the craze,

The hate in my eyes ablaze,

Raising my arms in praise,

Of the old ways.

I mock my enemy’s defeat,

Kicking dust at my feet,

Dancing wildly to the beat,

In the mid summer heat.

Mocking his retreat,

Shaming his fear,

Because he is not here.

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