Sudden Death
SUDDEN DEATH
Hollow ‘s the point which the powder will hurl
It’s game ending cargo to the man in the mask
Follow to anoint this un-Heavenly task
O reaper of sorrow and friend of a churl.
Scrummers collide as the boards slap the air
And the crowd issues volleys of praise
All comers beware of the dead it might raise
When the big hand gets over to there.
Seventeen thousand is the strength in the yell
All held hostage, but still unaware
The crosshairs align on the ominous sight
But it’s power‘s absorbed by the absence of light
As the good guys fulfill their own prayer.
Yes .. the lion’s defeated the bear.
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