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I suppose It's about time I wrote some Massivecraft-themed poetry for once. Apologies for the glumness, it's a habit.
Stack the bridges with ashlar and stone
for the sins of our brothers we must attone
We swallow our hopes in spite of our dreams
to protect our feeble, we suppress our esteems.
To remain in the drainage and drown in your waters
We offer to you our wives and our daughters
To fill your greediness to its full extent
When you are finally finished, asleep and spent,
By night you give us your lives and repent.
The huff and the puff of the daily regime
They're off in the morning to kill themselves clean.
They glint in the sunlight and glow in the dark
the uniforms they don are powdered and stark.
To shake their hammers and axes and swords
at things in the night whom others call Lords
Bring down the starlight with azure and gold
To chain up these heretics and fill them with mold.
The king that we hail is little and frail
His teeth are outspoken, his eyes grey and blue
The crown he dons upon his head is askew.
He rules our lands with a dusty ol' fist,
In his entombment it's about two decades he missed.
His antiquated visions and his parchment quarrels
Our city is no stronger than a pickpocket's morals.
Barbarians stomp and rumble the walls
Shatter buildings and bloody our halls
The tribesmen may cry and scream of their pleas
the bringer of doom, these figures appease
Clad in dark robes and bloodied black gloves
They bring certain death, and parry our doves.