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In Remembrance of Red Sonja
A metallic rasp as the blade slides clear,
Gleaming brightly though the night is drear.
Its wielder advances with measured pace,
A mocking smile dancing across her face.
Her fiery mane swirling in the frigid air,
She enters battle with scarce a care.
Bloodshed and death are her meat and drink,
Her opponent's spirit begins to sink.
In the Hyborian Age she plied her trade,
With blade and wit a fortune she made.
Few men could stand before her sword,
Whether alone or in howling horde.
A legend to many, nightmare to some,
Her dazzling blade snarling a vicious hum.
Heroine or villainess depending on one's view,
Yet to her word and honor she was always true.
I wonder how she would fare in this day and age,
If somehow she could step from the printed page.
Gleaming brightly though the night is drear.
Its wielder advances with measured pace,
A mocking smile dancing across her face.
Her fiery mane swirling in the frigid air,
She enters battle with scarce a care.
Bloodshed and death are her meat and drink,
Her opponent's spirit begins to sink.
In the Hyborian Age she plied her trade,
With blade and wit a fortune she made.
Few men could stand before her sword,
Whether alone or in howling horde.
A legend to many, nightmare to some,
Her dazzling blade snarling a vicious hum.
Heroine or villainess depending on one's view,
Yet to her word and honor she was always true.
I wonder how she would fare in this day and age,
If somehow she could step from the printed page.
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In Remembrance of Red Sonja
In Remembrance of Red Sonja