The Duel, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

The Duel

The Duel

The duel for one can be quite cruel,
Whether it be done by pistol or sword,
But worst of all is when words are the tool,
When a direct hit on the heart is scored.

From the piercing musket ball or steel blade,
For the loser, there’s a chance to be saved,
But deep biting words are like a grenade,
Possible both hearts are forever staved.

In war of words there can be no winner,
One trying to one-better the other,
As each now becomes executioner,
Delivering more vile words of anger.

Can the duel be stopped once on the field?
Or must there be their blood upon the ground?
Can both be saved by one willing to yield?
But can a willing volunteer be found?

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