has anyone else read the famous poem about shanking the tent?
Beneath this endless, starry sprawl,
A fury fierce, it grips my soul.
In shadows deep, my heart is rent,
To dare to act, to "shank the tent."
A blade, it gleams, a silent cry,
Tears through the canvas, oh, so sly.
In rage, I'm driven, discontent,
To rend and tear, to "shank the tent."
Oh, moon, bear witness to my ire,
A heart ablaze with vengeful fire.
Each cut, each thrust, my soul's intent,
To claim my vengeance, "shank the tent."
Morning's light, a cruel lament,
Reveals a scene of wild torment.
Yet still, my heart, though spent and spent,
Finds solace in the "shanked" lament.
