Monday, January 6, 2014

Poetry of Piddling Pariahs, the Piss Perfect Edition.

Contrary to the titles convoluted matrix of urine euphemisms, these poems are entirely harmless and don't have any NSFW content unless you count being ceremoniously twee as NSFW.

Painstaking extracted from the long forgotten archives of the forum, I bring you a quaternary of literary limbos by the Whimsical Prophet and Acclaimed Developer, me.

The Destroyer Returns:
Ideal background music.

Today was destined to be sad, a myriad of weak excuses shall leave the mouth of the learned.
On this day none shall ever again shed a tear of joy, for the Destroyer has returned...
In his wake the fire turned to lime, his carapace pitch, skin lost in the process of martyrdom.
Oh to see the spectacle of his return would be to know fear no man ever dare fathom.
He wakes, and as the veridian fire spreads across the cyberverse, a fearsome plot is heard...
"I'll burn these disreputable gnats and bury all their stupid garbage into the god damn earth."
Woe is his word, and true is his plot. Nary a remark would go unanswered, nor a question unregarded.
His fearsome devilbeast visage engulfed the cyberscape in digital fear, not one would survive the rise of the despot without shedding a tear.

The Best Birthday Game Ever:
Ideal background music.
"A birthday?" He piqued. A birthday indeed! he replied. "Such a game I will make, but your assistance I will need!"
And so craftsmanship between the two friends mustered, as they forged the project to make everyone flustered.
"I'll do the art!" said one, "I'll do the draft!" said the other, adventuring together to bring it into being part by part.
On the fateful day, that the Birthday Girl would feel dismay, is also the day that Final Fantasy Music would play!
No detail too sparse, no time too short, but at long last, their efforts were not for naught.
A tad belated, it's humor a little dated. The effort put in more than most appreciated.
The Best Birthday Game Ever, oh it's got to be the best Birthday Game Ever!
We'll shorten it to T.B.B.G.E, that's a concern not for you to be!
Now shake my hand, hold the glass, call the band and max out the brass.
It's all mirth and cheer, to you this year!

Postmartian Nights:
Ideal background music.
Oh I come from a land, from a faraway planet... where the extra-terrestrial freely roam.
Where you'll lose your hip if you don't watch your step, it's dangerous but hey it's home!
Where the structures are immense and the cold is intense, but it's reach is as far as nigh.
So come on through, take a tour of our technological furor, it's a Postmartian Night!
Postmartian Nights, like Postmartian Days, have no when or temporal zen. It's all up in the air!
Postmartian Nights, like Postmartian Moons, they don't exist, like a thing of myth, there's only one way of being fair!
Like a Blade with no edge, like a parcel with no pledge, there's never a dull moment here!
It's always in the works, moving on the slightest jerks, nothing is ever linear.
Postmartian Nights, like Postmartian time, is always quite right, though never in sight, it's all quite a sight.

The Origin of Origin
Ideal background music.

I woke to see God's Forge in fire, it's hearth was enraged. And as the flames swooned to the sky so too did the verdancy it held above...
In this scape the crafter slept, his garb white as bedsheets, his mind as steady as iron... forgotten in the fire.
I witnessed the creation of a Universe that would live a year 314 billionfold, in slumber we his servants would toil to shape the paragon that is the Origin Galaxy, in the center of this Galaxy lied a sanguine star to which God's home would forever be.
Countless universes had spawned before this one, and there would be an endless amount more to come. Each having it's own variables and twists. The Alpha of our timeline was as much a god as a guardian, ever watching with his omniscience unto the realms of mortality and beyond.

That's all I have for now.

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