Old poem collab between the Idealist, Cynic, and another fellow writer who does not yet have any title by which to call him by. We played that game where each person writes a line, but they're only allowed to see the line immediately before theirs. It starts off chim-ish but I swear it gets retardeder. ....That's a word now.
When come together all the sounds
In chaos like a storm of hounds
Thunder and lightning, rage a war
One that sunders the air evermore
I know not what dark has come to lie
But angel of truth triumphs in the sky
As the prince of lies flits in and out
It runs in circles, it screams and shouts!
It's a little penguin, and it pouts
And spits fluid like a water spout
It's raining cats, it's raining frogs
And everywhere it's raining bombs
Move! Move! Move out of the way!
Commotions arise! Calloo! Callay!
Hell breaks loose! Demons parade!
Utterly destroy Heaven's glade!
While hell rains fish all afire
And heaven fires chickens, all perspire
Chickens are scary, all is dire
Math is their one true desire
And adolf hitler is their only idol
His Nazism malapropised as their bible
But the hounds still cry into the dark
While the chickens fly as happy as a lark
They're happy for now, but catafalque soon
For the world to praise or gawk like buffoons
Or for them to be ashamed like an ass of a baboon
Never again shall they swoon with pride or croon
Like an apple gloating over an orange
Or an archer killing someone in range
Piercing his head like a ripe red grape
Pierced like a virgin subject to rape
And so the pen is set to rest, as this epic poem reaches the end
Actually it's in pencil; this lead I must defend :D
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