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Post by johnwatts05 on Jan 5, 2016 15:33:40 GMT
Oppressed with foes on every side
swords flash and ring on rival steel,
pikes cross and clash in cruel intent.
The castle holds, but in great thrall;
as siege mounts, like an iron tide.
There is no way for loyal knights
to meet this danger to their King;
for they protect the western wing
meeting the enemy thrust for thrust
to stop a threatened flanking move.
Suddenly they strike at our centre;
their knights and men break through.
So to counter this dreadful threat
we must commit our last reserves.
We advance my lord Bishops men.
But nothing can contain the breach.
Their eager forces press forward
as the bishops men fall, one by one.
Now finally comes deepest despair.
Our great and valorous castle falls.
A grim form now enfolds the king,
slowly raises him, high then down,
prostrate across the checker board.
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