Ode To The Great Eight

There he stands like a greek god

With his stick firmly in his hand

Ready to battle our opponents

He who is not afraid

Ode to the one who is great

Ode to the man

Who is bathe in milk & honey

If I could

I would

Only brush his silken hair with golden bristles

And rejoice in his presence

And utter forth glorious words

Of his triumphant battles

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