I stood atop the summit with a thrill
Shouting till my voice grew shrill
Cataphracts charged up that mossy hill
Poised with their lances ready to kill
Perhaps a course of rotten luck
For twas mine heart the lance struck
Dredging up my dead, horrid muck
Which drowned all it held stuck
I know now what pill to swallow
Though the medicine tastes hollow
Like rules man knows he cannot follow
This time; my companion sits shallow
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