Across the field, a giant loomed,
A beast in iron, hunger groomed.
His sword, a slab of wrath and weight,
Swung low with promise, high with hate.
The earth between was tight and thin,
A thread that trembled deep within.
One heartbeat more, the line would snap—
A thunder clap, a war god’s trap.
A beast in iron, hunger groomed.
His sword, a slab of wrath and weight,
Swung low with promise, high with hate.
The earth between was tight and thin,
A thread that trembled deep within.
One heartbeat more, the line would snap—
A thunder clap, a war god’s trap.
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Both warriors moved, and time did die.
Steel kissed steel in deadly light,
A whirlwind born of blood and fight.
The brute did bellow, slash and sweep,
Like storming waves that rise from deep.
But Jasper danced, a phantom breeze,
A whisper threading through the trees.
A flicker in the watching sky.
And then—his blade sang through the air,
A silver arc, precise and fair.
The iron mask fell to the ground,
No scream, no gasp, no mortal sound.
Just grass receiving death’s decree,
And Jasper standing, still and free.
The sunset dimmed, the tension paled.
And there he stood, his duty done—
A silent warrior beneath the sun.