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𝐀 𝐊𝐒π₯π₯𝐞𝐫

Two soldiers in an empty room.
One on his bed, a tale he read.

Bleak barracks, sombre like a tomb;
The second woke and quietly spoke:

β€œI feel this day a sense of doom,
For with a knife I took a life.”

The other answered in the gloom:
β€œThen I must know β€” a friend or foe?

I think a foe β€” that I’ll assume β€”
The one who fell β€” so all is well.”

And so did silence then resume;
But one, afraid, he clutched a blade.

β€” D.N. O’Brien