The Swords are Shining

The swords are drawn and shining room rings 
with their sharp squabbling shadows twist jump
on the wall overblown then small heedless 
of the fire's crack and spurt all sword-play is 
a fight to the death no lack of life 
to jump at the chance defiance enough
to trounce a champion of the King the 
room rings and shadows sway and stretch before 
that room's great hearth war in the heart boils 
blood exposes bone to downward stroke
these men lust for death and glory will not 
be sorry of wounds if that warrior fall 
and kiss the stone if their two feet stand sound
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