![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
WoW: Collected stupid WoWhead poetry thread!
(NOTE: if you've seen these on WoWHead--yes, that was me! I know it's somewhat wimpy of me to have posted under a masculine alias--and under the in-universe IM handle of an old RP character, even, the nerdherding WRAPS AROUND TWICE--but a lot of things seem like a good idea after a couple bottles of hard cider and very little sleep. Egad, narf, poit and so on.)
So sometimes, I get bored.
Sometimes I get bored and there's a headless pyromaniac like *HAPEN* all over WoW with rhyming couplets.
And then poetry is like *HAPEN*. Because it has to.
Then sometimes I get an anthology manga that has that headless pyromaniac's backstory in it.
And then more poetry--yeah you get the picture.
(Warning: there are spoilers for the Horseman's backstory in here!)
(FURTHER Warning: THIS IS STUPID.)
So without further ado, I present:
VARIOUS AND SUNDRY NOT-REALLY-ODES TO THE HEADLESS HORSEMAN
(with implied evil laughter aplenty)
O horseman, you're a villain through and through
And a dreadful pyromaniac, of course
For all you've torched, the least that you could do
IS BE A SPORT AND DROP YOUR FREAKING HORSE
---
This knight, he witnessed endless tragedy--
His prince gone rathouse nuts, his king struck dead
His baron selling out to Kel'thuzad
Hell, any man would go out of his head!
(It can't be easy coping with such ludicrous amounts of pain;
It's worse when there's a Dreadlord whispering creeping madness in your brain.)
Sir Thomas Thomson of the Silver Hand
Is now a pyromaniac ghost knight.
Struck down by those who'd use him as their blade
He haunts their shit and revels in their fright.
(The horseman also has a curious tendency to speak in rhyme
Alas for him his poetry simply doesn't scan most of the time.)
This won't deter him, though--still on he rides
While setting all our cottages alight
The moral of my story's plain to see--
THE SCARLETS CANNOT DO A DAMN THING RIGHT.
---
There once was a mad headless knight
Who filled all our poor hearts with fright
So we smote him with glee
But were dismayed to see
There'd be no celebration
Of decapitation
The knight we all dread
Oh, he still has his head
We just lopped off his helmet last night.
---
You streak 'cross the sky
With your stallion alight
You set me on fire
And then laugh at my plight
You've toasted my homies
With squash conflagration
What's a poet to do
Amidst this devastation?
Well, you think you're the bard
Yea, a bard most sublime!
You think you're the boss
Speaking only in rhyme
You think you're the master
You think you're the man
But I laugh at your efforts--
YOUR RHYMES DON'T QUITE SCAN!
MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
--
And a bonus NEVER BEFORE SEEN because you bore with me! How the Risen view their 'boss' is pure conjecture on my part, and probably pees on the altar of canon...but seeing as they are all completely off their heads, they don't ACT any differently than their living counterparts, and they still call themselves the Scarlet Crusade...yeah, I'm thinking they're a TAD delusional. If they know who he really is, they're not letting on to ME, so I'm assuming they're really in denial. :B
But anyway, on with the nonsense, and I apologize for any exploding of canon...
Within Stratholme, a Dreadlord dwells
He's shed his mortal guise
Yea, truly, he's a lord of jerks
A master over lies.
Oh, poor old Saidan Dathrohan
You didn't have a clue
You thought that you could pwn his ass;
He brought the pwn to you
So, sowing madness he did go
And reaping zealotry
The Crusade's pure no longer, now
It's very plain to see
Now, normally a Dreadlord
Will not answer for his sins
He stirs the pot and stacks the deck
Heads you lose, tails he wins
But Balnazzar, you poor old douche
The hand fate's dealt is strange
Your Risen think you're DATHROHAN
Still--my, but they're deranged!
Your undead army's barking mad
And thus Alliance and Horde
Can easily come and kick your ass
LOL FAIL GG, DREADLORD
So sometimes, I get bored.
Sometimes I get bored and there's a headless pyromaniac like *HAPEN* all over WoW with rhyming couplets.
And then poetry is like *HAPEN*. Because it has to.
Then sometimes I get an anthology manga that has that headless pyromaniac's backstory in it.
And then more poetry--yeah you get the picture.
(Warning: there are spoilers for the Horseman's backstory in here!)
(FURTHER Warning: THIS IS STUPID.)
So without further ado, I present:
VARIOUS AND SUNDRY NOT-REALLY-ODES TO THE HEADLESS HORSEMAN
(with implied evil laughter aplenty)
O horseman, you're a villain through and through
And a dreadful pyromaniac, of course
For all you've torched, the least that you could do
IS BE A SPORT AND DROP YOUR FREAKING HORSE
---
This knight, he witnessed endless tragedy--
His prince gone rathouse nuts, his king struck dead
His baron selling out to Kel'thuzad
Hell, any man would go out of his head!
(It can't be easy coping with such ludicrous amounts of pain;
It's worse when there's a Dreadlord whispering creeping madness in your brain.)
Sir Thomas Thomson of the Silver Hand
Is now a pyromaniac ghost knight.
Struck down by those who'd use him as their blade
He haunts their shit and revels in their fright.
(The horseman also has a curious tendency to speak in rhyme
Alas for him his poetry simply doesn't scan most of the time.)
This won't deter him, though--still on he rides
While setting all our cottages alight
The moral of my story's plain to see--
THE SCARLETS CANNOT DO A DAMN THING RIGHT.
---
There once was a mad headless knight
Who filled all our poor hearts with fright
So we smote him with glee
But were dismayed to see
There'd be no celebration
Of decapitation
The knight we all dread
Oh, he still has his head
We just lopped off his helmet last night.
---
You streak 'cross the sky
With your stallion alight
You set me on fire
And then laugh at my plight
You've toasted my homies
With squash conflagration
What's a poet to do
Amidst this devastation?
Well, you think you're the bard
Yea, a bard most sublime!
You think you're the boss
Speaking only in rhyme
You think you're the master
You think you're the man
But I laugh at your efforts--
YOUR RHYMES DON'T QUITE SCAN!
MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
--
And a bonus NEVER BEFORE SEEN because you bore with me! How the Risen view their 'boss' is pure conjecture on my part, and probably pees on the altar of canon...but seeing as they are all completely off their heads, they don't ACT any differently than their living counterparts, and they still call themselves the Scarlet Crusade...yeah, I'm thinking they're a TAD delusional. If they know who he really is, they're not letting on to ME, so I'm assuming they're really in denial. :B
But anyway, on with the nonsense, and I apologize for any exploding of canon...
Within Stratholme, a Dreadlord dwells
He's shed his mortal guise
Yea, truly, he's a lord of jerks
A master over lies.
Oh, poor old Saidan Dathrohan
You didn't have a clue
You thought that you could pwn his ass;
He brought the pwn to you
So, sowing madness he did go
And reaping zealotry
The Crusade's pure no longer, now
It's very plain to see
Now, normally a Dreadlord
Will not answer for his sins
He stirs the pot and stacks the deck
Heads you lose, tails he wins
But Balnazzar, you poor old douche
The hand fate's dealt is strange
Your Risen think you're DATHROHAN
Still--my, but they're deranged!
Your undead army's barking mad
And thus Alliance and Horde
Can easily come and kick your ass
LOL FAIL GG, DREADLORD