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No scars there, his skin fair
Long and golden hair
He says prayers, solitaire
No time to despair.
He can't care of affairs
Of Men, so beware
Blood is there in the air
Battle to declare.
Into the forest
He can disappear
There is fear, and a tear
Of many a year.
He can hunt of the deer
And is skilled with a spear
He can veer along towards
A day that is clear.

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