Goblin

The goblin I stab cries out to me loud,

Should I take his head and finish his life?,

Sully my linen? No, for I am proud,

My specter ease grip on arm of thine knife,

Throw him my hand for a colossal shake,

The monster looks to me with fading frown,

Congregations roar, with that the earth quakes,

He friegns, fell arbalest, I cut him down

Stampede to victor, I nearly collapse,

Raised over shoulders, celebrations coup,

Throw my grasp to many, with you perhaps,

Decline my grip and I'll cut you down, too,

Champion of men, now pay me.