Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/interactive-story/item_id/1565926-poetic-interactive-story/cid/835792-Storm-through-the-gates-to-save-the-King
I pounce the door, of untrodden woe,
the king sat still, with tie and bow,
I could not resist an idiom so dire,
to swing from the rafters with my enemy's lire.
Black and blue the bruises fly,
without a wimper or even a cry.
I laugh at my unyielding skill,
of swinging crazily without a quill.
Sir Mandrin, Sir Mandrin, I yelled from off high,
with a pitch and a scream something caught my fly.
Groaning with a moan, I crumpled to the floor.
Realizing this was the wrong tower, the King was next door. Doh!
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/interactive-story/item_id/1565926-poetic-interactive-story/cid/835792-Storm-through-the-gates-to-save-the-King
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