Hermit
Boy next door
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2007
- Messages
- 1,008
- Reaction score
- 393
- Points
- 235
Poems
Red Liqour
Shelter your Families, Bar them all in, Do what you want, I'll still slay your kin.Run for the hills, run for the old boat, enjoy your life's ease, Til' I slit thy throat.Cry out in vain, yell a sad yelp, death will come swiftly, Granted my help.One more village falls, deaths toll growing quicker, your fields are now stained, with the intoxicating Red Liqour.
The Arrow
A slave he was sold, to a man 40 years old, quite expensive was this slave, Yet neither strong or slight brave.After his daily whipping, the man thought to himself "this one is obedient..he doesn't even yelp!".Delicate was the slave, brought in for house work, having such a great slave, was a stupendous perk, complimented he was, by those he did see, for his fine slave, age twenty three.The man had a son, fearful of blades, the slave was to teach, of the bow's ways.Lessons begun, the slave was quite skilled, yet after weeks of practice, not one boar had they killed.the man he was angry, the slave not teaching the son, he punished the slave, screaming "you worthless con!". the boy he did call, to the slave as he shot, he could not hit, so the slave he escaped from the sot.the slave was found, and resumed training, now the man saw the slave, teaching his boy, to shoot up in the air, up up, and ahoy!The man was mad again, he tried to punish the slave, but it began to rain. the boy called out "I cannot hit the bullseye!" the slave he did call "go opposite the winds lie!" two seconds later, the father chasing the slave, his eyesight was bad, so the rain stopped the knave, alas, as he felt, the arrows fine tip, he tasted his blood, right on his own lip.he felt around, the back of his throat, his clothes had obtained, a fine blood-red coat.
(morrowind poem conversion)
Red Liqour
Shelter your Families, Bar them all in, Do what you want, I'll still slay your kin.Run for the hills, run for the old boat, enjoy your life's ease, Til' I slit thy throat.Cry out in vain, yell a sad yelp, death will come swiftly, Granted my help.One more village falls, deaths toll growing quicker, your fields are now stained, with the intoxicating Red Liqour.
The Arrow
A slave he was sold, to a man 40 years old, quite expensive was this slave, Yet neither strong or slight brave.After his daily whipping, the man thought to himself "this one is obedient..he doesn't even yelp!".Delicate was the slave, brought in for house work, having such a great slave, was a stupendous perk, complimented he was, by those he did see, for his fine slave, age twenty three.The man had a son, fearful of blades, the slave was to teach, of the bow's ways.Lessons begun, the slave was quite skilled, yet after weeks of practice, not one boar had they killed.the man he was angry, the slave not teaching the son, he punished the slave, screaming "you worthless con!". the boy he did call, to the slave as he shot, he could not hit, so the slave he escaped from the sot.the slave was found, and resumed training, now the man saw the slave, teaching his boy, to shoot up in the air, up up, and ahoy!The man was mad again, he tried to punish the slave, but it began to rain. the boy called out "I cannot hit the bullseye!" the slave he did call "go opposite the winds lie!" two seconds later, the father chasing the slave, his eyesight was bad, so the rain stopped the knave, alas, as he felt, the arrows fine tip, he tasted his blood, right on his own lip.he felt around, the back of his throat, his clothes had obtained, a fine blood-red coat.
(morrowind poem conversion)
