Solitude Poem by Demetrius JonesDixon
Solitude
Blades collide, sparks fly.
One, two, and then three die.
Eyes glow burning red.
Abandon the sword, use magic instead.
Create a clone to double the fun.
They'll fight until they see the sun.
He exhales a longing sigh on his way into town.
With a sadden frown.
His mind is sequestered, but he doesn't think.
He'll just sit in this pub and drinks.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/28/2026 7:32:57 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
