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The words escape my fierce intent,
evading conscioius spears and spars,
and leaving me with empty scars
where verbs and nouns lie tangled, spent.

My adversary swears its might
to keep the treasured words I seek
until I tire, worn with weak
surrender to the deep'ning night.

Then in the morrow's brutal light
with mind unmuddled, words revealed,
my written castle wall will yield
and cede my hopeless cause to write.