Gawd, here I am double posting, and I hope others will post as well. This thred needed to be reawakened.
This is a poem I wrote for Yessungee when he was in a bridge battle -- but not for very long. He hurt himself on the way down.
Anyway it is by me:
The corpse’s lament
The displeasure of dysplasia
When someone comes and slays ya
Then carelessly displays ya
on the field.
When the Marshals, at their leisure
come, much to your displeasure,
To drag you for good measure
on your shield.
To them you are just slaughter
The will dump you in the water
Without the respect they oughta
feel.
After brief inspection
They’ll deny you resurrection
Due to your pallid complexion
Or your body’s misdirection
(plus there’s no appeal.)
Just because you’re dead
they will cart yu off like lead
Not caring how they tread,
or how you’ll deal.
The humiliation does not stop
While you’re the grim reaper’s crop
So just lie there, do not flop
It’s tough luck you had to drop
Just be grateful it’s not real
~Alayne
