Product of my creative writing class, in it's final form. Enjoy “In the Midst of Battle” He carries a sword possessing a constant radiance, reflecting the obtuse and random rays of the sun. His other hand confidently grasps an intricate shield, delicate gilds worked carefully with crystal and gold. No dents are apparent in the bright polished armour, instead curves symbolize the elegance of his title. The king of England rides forth… Clothed in a simple and tattered brown garment, stained with a permanent layer of grimy dirt. He wields a long spear pointed with plain dull steel, the wooden shaft splintered and worn rough. For minimal protection an aged leather vest is worn, derived from the skin of his only milk cow. The peasant of nothing rides forth… Upon the middle of an expansive field the king and peasant combine: The king rides a stallion of rich blood strength The peasant runs in worn and injured feet. The king is obnoxious and grand in his gestures ignoring those who are nothing of worry. The feeble peasant is brutal in war movement slaughtering all around him without a care. Yet the peasant kills the almighty king.