2011 - Day 119

Across three spans and back again,
The rooster walk amok,
The polygon hemisphere crosses the plane
The surface descends with without luck.
Two barrels of stout
Twelve figures of gold
Five fighters stand still at the door,
The light flickers black
There's a smash and a crack
La orange creamsicle melts on the floor.
The dust gets rowdy
The sky gets cloudy
A whistling heard from afar,
They face each other
Both men undercover
And at three they are both seeing stars.
And end to the end
To beyond they are sent
A foolish mixing of words,
Could have stopped and felt better
Their blood would be wetter
I guess it's a lesson learned.