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Caller
Poland8075 Posts
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
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  | ||
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VegeTerran
Sweden214 Posts
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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EPT
