Soul (an acrostic poem)

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Sold that ratty old thing on the black market

Of course they didn’t realize what they were getting

Until they took possession.  Buyers beware.

Leaving my red haired head, cracked halo, and broken black wings one PlayStation 5 richer.

Costly (an acrostic poem)

Casualty numbers kept trickling in

Obscuring the greatness of the victory

Still, Vincent had to admit he’d lost over a quarter of his troops

They sold their lives dearly though

Littering the fertile fields with their enemy’s dead

Years later the soil still held the scent of their sacrificial blood

 

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