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Razor-thin derision
Join Date: Jan 2013
Posts: 4,422
Battle Record: 40-25
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Rally
Soldiers ride in barrels, hairstyles wily but mostly high and narrow Insomniacs with spears and a penchant for fire arrows The war starred the warden's winter garden Winthorpan corporals Horned enforcements, marching up north with their storm-warbled work-kits Peasants and the poorest armed in bronze gear they'd rented from a fortress carrying flags the color of a peach, Norsemen's orchards they'd never be The battlefield fruitless, rows of men, growing thin, who'd seldom speak Lemon-seeds and metal siege the mellow meadow's melamine Shattered shields from shallot steel, peeling onions into several ribbons Grenadiers salivate at the coward king as pellet-ridden (Phalladine's perplexed & limping) the frontline a drenched palimpsest - busted open that chest full of pinpricks explosive bundles where the dead lay slain, choked and huddled Is that scorpion-black firewood or limbs petrified in a hopeless struggle? Charlemagne must've vomited ninja stars all over the floor now tell him his soul isn't pure... Diplomacy's crucifix has four points: de facto, de jure, and decapitated couture. Last edited by Vulgar; 08-03-2017 at 10:39 PM. |
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