signal lance
You—Stoic warrior, whom veils your righteous shield,
Diamond and obsidian coated; facing a fencer,
You shall revere my poetic rapier,
Gambeson bestowed, my tango confidant—
Will pierce any type of shield you fathom to bring.
Yours is made out of straw, cardboard, and tin-can;
Yours, alas, is but a farce,
Merely holding out with an elastic band, chewing gum,
And a millennium-old newspaper.
I can tank hits. I've trained for many years.
Don't dare underestimate my skill and resourcefulness.
I vow for my holy queen—Argentina.
En garde!