He was fighting for long
Tired and bruised
He vowed ages ago
To fight for his people
And he made them proud
Now, war was almost over
He stood up and looked around
The battlefield was silent
But he sensed a strangeness
Not in air, not on ground
But there was something else
A feeling of one last strike
From an ever-changing enemy
Then in a flash!
The old nemesis strike
He was ready for that
And so was his pen
Who morphed into
A bludgeon!
For The Daily Post’s Bludgeon
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