2 acessos
We played it clean
In the midst of enemies.
And no hem unkept.
No stutter or comma cleft.
And they hemorrhage wit
At a rate until they see
There is no other place to go,
No other place to be so alone.
We drew our lines
In the form of pantomime.
And it caused a rift,
Miniscule but pertinent.
And they gave us gold.
By fortune, fame we're told
We are now
Close to world renowned
For doing none other than
What we're told.