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He tracked down his man
As if from a plan
To the tropics, where it thrives
And the jungle finds them

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A machete proved to be my friend. The jungle is not a place for sub-par strolling, regardless of intent. Though my intent be noble, not even the noblest could change the jungle's selfish ardour. Flashes accompany me, brief inceptions of haunting memory. Times I've failed in my mission. My inner demons have chosen to accompany me through my last leg. This is endgame.

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Sword flash, machete hack
He's hot on the trail
Nothing to derail
And the jungle minds them

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I found his trail, which, until then, had been blurred by apparitions of my past. Of the times he had eluded me. No more. The jungle seems fitting of our final duel, in some twisted way. He had eluded me in the castles of the north, to the villages of the far-east. My cause is the righteous one. He has wronged me. He will lose. This is endgame.

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Crossing paths, the duo met
Their chagrins far beyond regret
Crossing swords, a farcry from hope
And the jungle grinds them

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Through the foliage we fight, locked in a brevacious brawl. But I must win. I have the motivation. He had wronged me, so long ago. Stabbed in the back by my own friend. This will end here. This will end now. This is the endgame of the endgame.

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Locked in battle, the two fighteth on
Soon one will break through, and touch the dawn
Until then, neither conceding an inch
And the jungle damns them

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