Wind whips through his hair
The salt of the violent sea
He does not turn
He does not flee
Rather, he stands tall
Ready to face the beast
Years have passed
He has awaited this fight
The one to end the war
Which is no longer true or right
It is likely
None will come out alive
Though the risk is worthwhile
So it doesn't take another's life
The beast finally shows its face
At first begging and pleading
Though fangs soon expose
When talking does not go it's way
The fight drug on
From dusk 'til morn'
Not a life be spared
Except for one....
The beast lay battered, broken and bruised
With a grin on her perfect face
She slithers away
