Post by frankenforcer on Mar 9, 2011 14:11:14 GMT -5
Here are a few amateur poems I wrote for three Gaming IP's. It was fun.
A LEGEND LIKE NO OTHER
Out of the mists of Hyrule
Astride his horse he came
Pixie like and formidable
A kid with a Legends name
To save the troubled Princess
From an evil long time known
until the end of the Legend
he never will get home.
THE BALLAD OF THE BROS. PLUMB
Contrasting colors; red and green
from left to right on my screen
down the tunnels for loves labor lost
to arrive at a castle to face that last boss
A princess' love unrequited it may be
for the face you seek is that of lovely
Pauline. From Goomba, to Troopa
Bullet Bill; Bob-Omb
Forward you run on and on
Until at last your mission done
but in the end Mario Bros.
What have you truly won?
AN ODE TO WAKING ALAN
The loneliness and confusion, darkness with despair
Is it insanity or collusion, the terror permeates the air
A battle of shadow and light, with a man's soul at stake
The eerie sounds of night, sometimes more than I can take
Not for the faint of heart, nor the fickle time spent
it is poetry on screen, Alan Wake's Dark Decent
A LEGEND LIKE NO OTHER
Out of the mists of Hyrule
Astride his horse he came
Pixie like and formidable
A kid with a Legends name
To save the troubled Princess
From an evil long time known
until the end of the Legend
he never will get home.
THE BALLAD OF THE BROS. PLUMB
Contrasting colors; red and green
from left to right on my screen
down the tunnels for loves labor lost
to arrive at a castle to face that last boss
A princess' love unrequited it may be
for the face you seek is that of lovely
Pauline. From Goomba, to Troopa
Bullet Bill; Bob-Omb
Forward you run on and on
Until at last your mission done
but in the end Mario Bros.
What have you truly won?
AN ODE TO WAKING ALAN
The loneliness and confusion, darkness with despair
Is it insanity or collusion, the terror permeates the air
A battle of shadow and light, with a man's soul at stake
The eerie sounds of night, sometimes more than I can take
Not for the faint of heart, nor the fickle time spent
it is poetry on screen, Alan Wake's Dark Decent
