The fighter

With golden locks of lace

I waltz around this town

This is no modern palace

This is my old home town

 

The people pass me by

And whisper to themselves

Am I the man that used to cry

At reflections of myself

 

You can no longer hurt me

My armor is too strong

It’s built on pain and fury

Like the scars that coat my arm

 

Despite your fists of hatred

My body shows no harm

Your blades of aimless anger

Now clash within your charm

 

My war with you is over

My battle’s almost won

It’s time to help my brothers

For I am not the only one.

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