My hand reached out, but you wouldn't shake.
And with me peace you wouldn't make
and so it's come, our arms we take.
Your sword is swift, and mine is fast.
Your step is light but mine are vast.
No turning back, the die is cast.
Steel and flesh and red,
the devil's given his head;
Bone, muscle, and gore,
the demons cry for more.
A moment's break, we stand and stare,
and panting hard, are made aware
of new dangers in the air.
The sound of boots in lockstep march
the gendarmes coming through the arch.
Like felons, how we two then fled
lest they catch us where we bled.
Tale Told 