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The Seven Sages
by
Jonathan Isenor
The Seven Sages were imprisoned in the
seven sands,
Their fate was in a hero's hands,
A young boy of whispering winds was found,
Not far from a cities grounds,
The god's picked him,
Although his odds looked slim,
The Ruler waged wars,
That left deep scars,
He desired bloodshed,
At least he thrived on the color red,
The gods gave the hero a mystical sword,
To fend off hordes,
So the boy set out on his quest,
Quite often he did rest,
He fended off many hordes,
With only one mighty sword,
He traveled the world and freed each Sage,
Never once did he become enraged,
The Sages gathered and cast a spell,
That in the end worked well,
The Dark Ruler was at his best,
The Sages laid him to rest,
Then they thanked the hero,
For he was no zero.
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