The Haven.

Once upon a quest line dreary, while I wandered weak and weary,
Over many a mile and bland expanse of forgotten shore,
While I grinded, ardour shearing, suddenly there came a clearing,
And I stood there simply peering, peering at the fort before.
‘Tis some anterior,’ I muttered, sneering at the fort before,
‘Only this, and nothing more.’

But upon that bastion nearing, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no player ever dared to dream before;
`Surely,’ said I, `surely there is treasure in this lordly fortress;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore.
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore –
Alas! Some mobs and nothing more!’

Presently all hope declined; deflated soul at once resigned,
`Dev’ said I, `or designer, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my desire for more,
In that moment I believed you, that this fort I should explore.’
Yet mobs stood there, and nothing more.

Quite distinct the recollection, when hope defeated circumspection,
And fancy dared to conjure bounty in that citadel I saw.
Eagerly I wished for wonder; vainly forth I chose to blunder
On the wild preposterous belief – belief in something to explore.
Yet nought but mobs did I uncover and on this discovery I swore:
No exploring forevermore.

With considerable apologies to Mr Poe

9 thoughts on “The Haven.

  1. Bronte

    I went through my reader, expecting more of the same,
    But when I came across this post, my jaw hit the floor,
    Such a terrible affront, my head swam with disgust,
    My eyes I’d gouge out, even if there were four,
    This piece needs to die in a fire, all of it and more,
    Seas of mediocrity abound, waves lapping at its shore,
    No decency forevermore.

    Due apologies to Edgar. Oh. Yeah. Those of us close to him called him by his first name.

    Captcha word: Frucking. Again.

  2. John Andrew

    `Twas bugdat and the pushdug burz
    Did skai and bagronk in the glob:
    All mokurz were the krimpatul,
    And the kuf golug skrithurz.

    “Beware Adventurers, my son!
    The arrows that pierce, the cries that stun!
    Beware the Hobbit Burg, and shun
    The Dwarven Guardian!”

    He took his broken sword in hand:
    Long time some restful peace he sought —
    So rested he at Haven’s peak,
    And ate the lunch he’d brought.

    And, as in Orcish thought he stood,
    The Adventurer, with eyes of blue,
    Came barging up the stairs of wood,
    Not pausing as it slew!

    One, two! One, two! And through and through
    The broken blade in twain was cleft!
    Our orc played dead, and watched with dread
    Until the adventurer left.

    “And, hast thou ‘scaped the wrath of Man?
    Come hither and learn, my fearsome boy!
    They claim to explore, but lie evermore
    Tis pillage and plunder their ultimate plan.”

    `Twas bugdat and the pushdug burz
    Did skai and bagronk in the glob:
    All mokurz were the krimpatul,
    And the kuf golug skrithurz.

    My apologies to Lewis Carroll

  3. Bronte

    @John Andrew: I will kuf your golug in your skrithurz.

    @Melmoth: Oh I see the message got through loud and clear!

    Captcha word: frabjous. That sounds like a deliciously disgusting drink. Unless Frab is some dude. In which case: ew!

  4. Dok

    That was wonderful! And John Andrews response was perfect :) If a book deal of some kind isn’t forthcoming soon then there is no justice in the world!

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