Quickie poem

Just a quick poem

Fall upon a blank walk to execution
Walk along the sea of nobility
Drop your eyes on the target to be deceased
Mark the dream of death upon the foe
Have a grave made in sureness
Do not blend in with the surroundings
Enemies fall in, Just stair at the sky
Death surrounds you in a octogon
Everyone looking and the target takes notice
With a smile the target pulls his weapon
Quick draw a knife, the targets now wounded
Sprint fast and at last
You are a king.