Combat Sarong

Combat Sarong

This sash is made of memories

emotions and things pulled from times

good and bad

It hangs loose on my body, it used to restrict me

round about a few times, I pull it taut when you come close

Silat started as a form of mysticism

Even the bad things I hold close

the things you try to forget, they make me who I am

I can take you down with just a flick of the wrist

The sash will wrap around you

spooling comfort

until it gets pulled a bit, restricting like an anaconda

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