In the days of Runescape, young and old,

 

 

 

Tales of an ancient warrior are told,

 

 

 

A knight who was honest and true,

 

 

 

And in his journey, slayed many, not few.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The warrior's life was filled with strife,

 

 

 

Yet he lived a legendary life,

 

 

 

He fought the evil, gave to the poor,

 

 

 

And never wished that he had more.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There was not an opponet who he feared,

 

 

 

Not the Dragons, the Bugs, the giants with the beards,

 

 

 

He killed the monsters, one and all,

 

 

 

But not any humans, no matter how big or small.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He never killed humans, a task he hated,

 

 

 

His dislike for this was often stated,

 

 

 

He only killed monsters, never his own,

 

 

 

Why he changed was never known.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It is said that one day, he lost his ways,

 

 

 

He lost the valor of his old days,

 

 

 

He stopped fighting monsters, and his target changed,

 

 

 

He killed humans, with Melee, Mage and Ranged.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He snapped, one day, and went berserk,

 

 

 

And he did it all, while he smirked,

 

 

 

His smile was one of twisted glee,

 

 

 

It was one that he had while he watched them flee.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He killed the weak, he killed the old,

 

 

 

He killed the women, as the tale is told,

 

 

 

No one could stop his murderous rage,

 

 

 

Not the warrior's steel or the mage's magic cage.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He slayed them all, and saw what his work

 

 

 

The dammage done when he went Berserk,

 

 

 

The darkness had taken, the once great city,

 

 

 

And the dammage done was more than a pitty.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Gods themselves made a stand,

 

 

 

Taking matters into their own hands,

 

 

 

With the power of the three, in one final Blast,

 

 

 

They finished the warrior, he had killed his last.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Why this happened, it is still not sure,

 

 

 

Why the Hero had become an evil cur,

 

 

 

Some say it was just the weight of the fame,

 

 

 

It caused his crazy, and the muderer came.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But that is not true, that is a lie,

 

 

 

It was not what became of this once great guy,

 

 

 

He was forced to do these things,

 

 

 

He was a puppet, and I pulled the strings.

I thought that is totally patheticly massively...AWSOME! Good job.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(I believe you mean smirked not smerked and cur not Kur though ;))

Yes, I did...Thanks for the corrections though!

Terrific poem the best i have read yet! :mrgreen:

As I said with the other one it doesn't seem to have much of a driving force. It does seem to be only me that thinks this though, so I don't know...