The long man fires
A hunting bow
To pierce the fool
Whose heart is wretched
For wandering through
Fickle fields a thousand
Years or more
Dressed in cap and colours
Though once dressed in
A more sedated hue
Walking the streets
With an arrow sticking
Out from a scarred back
Presenting a bold front to
All who face the fool
Who greets with a brave smile
And assures all
It will be over soon
And all will be well.
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