The sweat pours down his face
Racing rivulets of exertion
He parries then swings
Dodges then rolls
His sword, his only lifeline
The enemies close in
He wipes his matted curls
Blue eyes desperately calculating
Swings and scores
The enemies are dead now
His work done,
He lays down to rest
Only to realize
What he thought was only a game
Was real.
