The Battle
By thecure
- 312 reads
The Battle
The rival’s ravenous rumbles echoed through every room,
The oracles could sense the thunder the storm approaching the aroma of doom,
The sacred object stood blissfully unaware secluded and silent,
Who knew such a thing could turn nasty and violent,
A tornado of temper tantrums tears up the place,
An intense look from the three of them as they start the usual chase,
One reaches out for the wand of immense power and light,
The other tries to grab it ready for a fight,
They direct it to the magic pandora’s powerful projector,
Midget men in brightly coloured clothing run across a pitch,
The Oldest warrior starts to grin, highly hypnotised by the running around and chanting,
The youngest lies in wait a prying predator stalking its opponent,
A break I think they call it half time,
The youngest smiles as he grins “ Now the remote is mine.”
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