Poetry...;-; - Page 2

Caller

Poland8075 Posts

August 28 2008 05:16 GMT

#21

Through the coming storm comes a man
Dodging strikes to the left and the right
Leading his comrades over the blight
Claiming the land in the name of Terran.

That invisible hand in the sky guiding he,
Maniacal speed and reflexes of lightning,
He is one who will always keep Hwaiting,
They call this warrior Yun-Yeol, Lee

He takes on opponents without a botha
Guiding his armies of flesh and steel
With such tactical genius it seems unreal
Victory is sure: defeat, Nada.

Pholon

Netherlands6142 Posts

August 28 2008 08:39 GMT

#22

Sending out four working mates
To start a rax near the edge of base
Lifting them up, he elevates
and floats them to his opponent's place

Unawares of his hovering bane
The zerg's commander never suspects
The landing of the buildings that train
four fiersome fiery firebats

They burn down the sunken, half way done
And gather their team mates who join the scene
The slaughter has only just begun
and Boxer rules supreme

"Dude, wtf?", you might say.
It's what we call a pimpest play

VegeTerran

Sweden214 Posts

August 28 2008 09:51 GMT

#23

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!

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