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I'm a aspiring writer looking to focus on short story collections as well as a aspiring lets play content creator.
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  • A place where I will be sharing my writing via poems and short stories.

Recent posts

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Death of Humanity


A frame sits in front of me

Its bones are bare

save for its muscles

its nerves

its organs


All that is physical is prepared


Lights shine on this metal floor

casting a sea of white reflections

while shadows stretch across the floor

from a table as the tools that rest

show wear from old age


There is no more grey hue to them

Only a brown rust that eats away

as a question runs its marathon

across my mind


What shall I put in its soul?


I look at the paint buckets near my feet

Shall I color its skin black?

Shall I color it white?

Shall I color it yellow?

What about red?


The paint brush selects its color

It paints away 

giving the skin its coat of identity


Off to the left sits another table

These sexual organs sit 

there physical meaning gone

as gender, and even sexuality, 

have become a spiritual identity


What shall I teach it to read?

Shall I teach it religion?


Off to the right I look at the books

that sit on a table as dust collects


Perhaps it could give the soul strength of faith

but also poison it

with unbridled hatred


Maybe I should teach it politics?

No, it would not be best

It would be just another cult

to blind its vision


I regard this frame 

Shall I give it life?


No, it is best to start over


I slide my stool over 

ready for the next frame

as I know the last one

will only know division

but will never know true humanity

as it will never see the individual












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Corporatized Causes A causeCan be justA causeCan bring change Until you meet me

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Got the urge to right a new poem. I call it, The Suppressed.

You look at me

You hate me

Here I stand

Poor to my name

As my voice sings

A song of freedom of speech

As my hands

Paint a picture of freedom of expression

You tell me to lean

Lean a certain way

That which offends

You must hate


What I tell you to hate


What I do not approve of


What I tell you to mock

My political correctness

Is the only political correctness


If in truth

It offends

It does not matter

Spread my cancel culture

Spread my infection

Spread my disease

Let them come

I say

Let them march

I shout

Let them bring a fight

I bellow

When cancel culture knocks

I shall reply

A simple reply

Go fuck yourself

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Humanities Genocidal Legacy


Crimson paints the dirt

Sidewalks become red

Fields are blessed by blood

Rain washes it away

The Earth receives the bodies

Voices are silenced



Does not stay silent

Yet, those with a voice

Those with a powerful influence

Simply do not speak


They hide it

They cover it up


Only for history to teach us later

But Humanity

Still refuses to learn

Crimson continues to paint

In everlasting cycles

As our legacy

Becomes a legacy of genocide

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Nothing but Children


The children stand

Ready to verbally abuse

Fanatics sit on the side


They cheer

Save us

Save us from this other party



How naïve

These fanatics are

As the children prod them ever onward



How blind

These fanatics are

As they do not see

The hate

The division

The fear



How the puppets

Become indoctrinated

Into fanaticism



Here I stand

Ready to do what needs to be done

As I say to the children

The red’s

The blue’s

To shut up

Stop bitching

Work together

And make the country

For the people

By the people

And not against the people












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A Name Painted in Crimson


I am a painter

That paints in crimson

My name

Is on everyone’s mind

But not all act on it


Save for those in power

Who spill crimson paint

Through their civil wars

And their genocides


Fight on


Fight on

In your civil war


Take in the name of your nations

In the name of your gods

Paint the world in blood


And when you commit self-genocide

When you reach Heaven

Or Hell

And the gate keeper asks 

Who sent you



Tell them 

Violence sent you




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At a Platform’s Discretion 

Here she sits

The digital world

Waiting for her



Enter and explore


Walk down the halls

Join the rooms

Chat with its occupants


Do not mind the chains

Do not mind the tape

Do not mind the black bars


You are still free

These platforms say

But it is all lies


She tries to escape

She looks to other rooms

There is only darkness

There are only false facades


Hate them

Say the big tech platforms

Condemn them

The big tech platforms shout



Are to be forgotten

They are to be erased

Says big tech


She runs


And more

She runs


Until she realizes a simple truth

Free speech

Is only as free 

As the platform says it is



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 Persecution by Murder

by Bradley "DpsMiqote" Cleckner

Page 1

Natasha drew the knife from the sheathe to run her gloved finger across it stopping at 

the tip. She could feel it begin to pierce through the leather as she stopped it before it could 

pierce the skin. She did not put it away but held it as she looked at the woman in front of her. 

            “Hello, Natasha,” said the woman.

            “Hello, Mira,” replied Natasha.

            Natasha had not seen Mira in years as their friendship had drifted apart. Natasha had 

become the one who would say what Mira, the artist, could and could not create. She looked 

up at the cabin and the patches of snow that hadn’t yet melted away on its roof as well as the 

ground. Natasha could feel her boots want to sink into the ground as she approached Mira.

            “Your hair has grown longer since I last saw it. I remember you liked to keep it at 

shoulder length,” said Natasha.

            Natasha could see Mira looking through a sketch book as Mira said, “I wanted to try 

something new.”

            Natasha sat down next to her.

            “You kept it blonde. It goes well with your blue eyes,” said Natasha.

            Natasha said nothing else, and, for a few minutes, there was silence between the two 

friends. Natasha would let he knife drop into the ground and take it back out only to let it fall to 

pierce through the ground causing a small hole to form. 

            “When you cut my throat will you let the snow bury me?” asked Mira. 

            Natasha let the knife sit in the hole as it fell one last time. She didn’t want to pick it up.

            “Mira,” said Natasha.

            Natasha heard the book close with a hand touching her shoulder a few seconds later.

            “You don’t want to ask why?” asked Mira.

Page 2

            Natasha placed a hand on top of Mira’s. At first, Natasha felt a coldness bite at her 

gloved hand but soon that changed to warmth.

            “Because I know the answer,” said Natasha.

            “Is it wrong to love who we want to love? Is it wrong to express that love through art? 

It is wrong to express it through the written word?” asked Mira.

Natasha took Mira’s hand and held it tighter.

“Mira, you’re getting repetitive in your questions,” said Natasha.

Natasha could see the snow starting to gather on her clothes as they were almost 

covered by a patchy white blanket of snow.

“Sorry, I guess I started them all the same, didn’t I?” asked Mira.

“Yes,” said Natasha. 

Natasha let go of Mira’s hand before standing up.

“You should have created the content they told you to create. You should have just 

loved who they told you to love,” said Natasha.

“No, I don’t think I’ll do that anymore. Natasha, lets go inside and have a drink,” said 


            Natasha had placed her hand on her gun but didn’t draw it. 

            “Just a drink between us before you kill me?” asked Mira. 

            Natasha watched Mira get up and place a hand over her hand that laid over the gun. 

Natasha loosened her grip on the gun.

            “One last drink,” said Natasha. 

            Natasha felt Mira remove her hand to go pick up her sketch book. Natasha followed 

Mira inside only stopping to look around the room. A simple kitchen, with a dining table not too 

far from it. She could see Mira still had the same old couch with its teal colored blanket 

draped over it and the fireplace straight across from it with a television on the wall to the right. 

She went into the kitchen as Mira had placed down the sketchbook on the counter. 

            Natasha opened it and began to look through the pictures. They were drawings of 


Page 3

Some were same sex couples while others weren’t. She looked at them taking in the 

forests, the walk through the snow, the cherry blossoms that fell around them, and the couples 

that sat on the porch watching the moon. Natasha stopped to see a drawn picture of her and 


            They sat on the couch hand in hand. Natasha noticed Mira’s head on her shoulder. 

Natasha could tell this was younger version of herself as her black hair had gone past her 

shoulders. She still had her green eyes and still stood a bit taller than Mira. 

            “What do you think?’ asked Mira. 

            Natasha looked up at her and took her drink. 

            “They’re beautiful. I like that you chose the couch,” said Natasha.

            Natasha downed the drink not wanting to enjoy it. She watched Mira set down her drink 

before Natasha felt Mira’s lips on hers. Her instinct wanted to go for the gun, but she didn’t. 

Natasha wrapped her arms around Mira like a rope holding onto her. For a couple minutes they 

kissed before Mira stopped.  

            “The world changed too quickly on us, didn’t it?” asked Natasha.

            Natasha looked at her wondering why love could be hated so much just because of who 

people chose to love. All the people she had to kill, and now they wanted to test her loyalty.

            “Yes, it did,” said Natasha. 

            Natasha watched Mira placed the side of her head against Natasha’s shoulder. 

            “I should have said I loved you before all this. What would you say back?” asked Mira. 

            Natasha looked in Mira’s eyes as Mira looked up to her.

            “I would have said I loved you back,” said Natasha. 

            Natasha gave Mira another long kiss.

            “They’re waiting out there. The Federation sent more with me,” said Natasha.

            Natasha reached for her gun but only placed her hand on the holster.

            “They’re expecting a test of loyalty. Either I kill your, or I die with you,” said Natasha.

            Natasha watched Mira take the book.

Page 4

            “Is it possible to get away?” asked Mira. 

            Natasha shook her head knowing they wouldn’t make it. 

            “It’s not likely,” said Natasha. 

            Natasha held her tight as she briefly saw a round ball like device shatter the window and 

land a few feet beyond them. 

“I love you,” said Natasha.

“I love you too,” said Mira. 

Natasha closed her eyes feeling her feet lift from the ground as the device detonated. She held 

Mira tight as Natasha could feel her body impact the wood its splinters cutting at her with 

pieces of glass stabbing through her skin. She could feel the heat on her skin her clothes ripped 

away from her left side, and arm. The cold snow embraced her before chasing away the heat. 

Natasha turned her head to see Mira lying in the snow next to her.

            She could see signs of life, but the damage had also been done. Natasha knew neither of 

them were in any condition to get up and run much less fire a weapon. She took Mira’s hand as 

it reached out for her. A gun echoed like thunder as Natasha could feel Mira’s hand go limp. 

Natasha reached for her gun wanting to at least kill one of the bastards before it all ended. 

            She grabbed it her arm growing hot from the burns on it that grew irritated by her arm’s 

movement. She drew it and took aim in a direction facing forward. The shots rang out her clip 

growing empty until only a click played like a record player. She let her arm fall gaining some 

satisfaction that she heard something heavy fall to the ground. Natasha looked to her side her 

last sight being the symbol of the Federation. A red and blue bear against a white background. 







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Watching It All Burn Down

She stands on the line

To one side stands those 

Dressed in red suits

To the other stands those

Dressed in blue shirts




They dance among the suits

They pull the strings

As they look to control the masses

Via the social media

That only cares about greed

And not the human cost of business


She continues forward


Now both sides were their suits

Along with their masks

One side

It is a mask 

With a yellow star

While on the other 

It is a mask

With a swastika 


They begin to jeer

They begin to jest


Words fill the air 

In heated hatred

It assaults her skin

She can feel it lash out







The words drown out

Any conversation

As both sides

Only see the masks


She continues forward


On one side 

They shout for peace

The buildings stand

While the police line up

Waiting for a spark

To light the match


Heat consumes her other side

She smells the smoke

As her clothes begin to burn

On the other side buildings burn

Bangs echo

Blood paints the street

A crimson shade


The heat latches further

Her skin begins to peel away

As the orange flames feed away


The other side begins to burn

Those words of hate

Grow louder

Her ear drums about to burst


She closes eyes

To let her voice sing

In a defiant cry


Both sides stop

The illusions shatter

Glass shards of a false reality

Drift away


Those in red

Those in blue

Those in white

Stand with her 



The dragons

And bears

Begin to cower




Big Tech

Sit on bent knees

Waiting for an order

Waiting for their strings to be pulled


But there is nothing

As their fanatics

Are no longer puppets




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Division by Red and Blue

Elections arrive

Seasons pass

Winters bring snow

Monsoons bring rain

Tropical storms build


War, eventually begins

As the politicians begin their playground brawls

They sling their slanderous material

Their negativity

Ready to throw mud 

And blemish the record of their hated rival


They stand on their platform

A platform filled with so many promises

Look at me

For I am the right solution

Look at what I will bring


Do not look at my track record

Do not look at my blemishes

Do not look past my facades

My half measures

My soul that has been sold

To a foreign country

As well as corporations

That only care for money

And not human rights


So here I am to sell you a brand

A brand of red or blue

A brand that only wants your votes

Our promises are empty

Our hearts belong to the party


Do not worry

I will sell the country 

The highest bidder will take it

And we will enjoy being a puppet nation


The fanatics vote down the party line

Those stuck in the middle are sold into a brand

A brand called red versus blue


The third party sits in his corner

Trying to have a semblance of power

But red

And blue

Would have you shove them aside


They are nothing

Only red and blue matter

Another election go’s by

Everyone casts their votes

Not realizing a simple fact


That there is no longer a nation

By the people

For the people


We are now a nation 

That must choose between two lesser evils

As well as deal with a simple reality

That no matter who we vote for

Our country

Has already been bought and sold










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Divided By A Red Line

I stand on the porch

As leaves dance

While the wind carries them across a stage

That is the blue skies

Not far from my porch

Across the coal blackened streets

Sits more of this neighborhood

That is coated in a crimson barrier

Across the coal blackened streets I walk

Stopping at the red divide

Where everything is coated

In shades of crimson

I sit down on the concrete

That sends a chill up my back

From the dampness left behind

By a recent storm

I reach towards the barrier

Stopping myself from touching it

I am taught to fear what lies beyond

I am taught that they are my enemy

I am taught they are the monsters

I look to my right to see the towers

Wondering if they would sound a warning

Of impending nuclear annihilation

I look back at the barrier 

As I ask if we must risk

Going to the brink

Only for nuclear holocaust to be the ending 

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Vicious Cycles

Gods and Goddesses watch with disappointment

From their perches up in the Heavens

While Gods and Goddesses underground

 Watch with anticipation


Mortals fall from their grace

As their vile lessons

Continue a cycle of poisonous venoms

That begin to have countries at each other’s throats

As well as their citizens ready to tear their own country in two


Division grows

As hate teaches us

To no longer see another mortal being

But only what lies on the surface


Skin color



Economic privilege


The sum of our surface parts

Instead of what lies beneath that


The individual


Greed traps a mortal soul

Teaching the soul

That censorship is better

Then the freedom of speech


Freedom of expression

Begins to fade away

As other countries

Begin to buy into a puppet

To hide their ugly nature


Some speak out 

Only for their voice to be silenced

As the puppet begins to follow orders


It reaches out

Find others to trap in its web

As, one by one, more fall to greed

Till a whole country is for sale


The politicians hide in their office

Cowering under the desk at the thought of losing it all

Just to stand up, speak out, and redeem their soul


Violence rings out at the sound of thunder

The source a mortal weapon 

From a someone who we are taught

To trust


More die

As no accountability is made

Until it is far too late to mean anything


Politicians posture

They move the chess piece

An executive order go’s out

Just to silence the question

Just to hush the crowd

All the while

A new piece moves


The distraction is put in place

As the needed questions are ignored







They all get buried into a grave

And shoved aside 

As the viscous cycle marches on

Drowning out the voices

That stand against it


I simply watch 

As humanities most vile lessons

Chip away 

Until nothing remains

But ruins and graveyards

















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Another poem I wrote with this one aimed at a certain cesspool of a social media site called Twitter. This one is to all those fucks on Twitter that only see in gender and race instead of seeing a individual. Maybe if people would get to know a individual instead of choosing to hate the world would be better place.

Our World Seen in Crimson Shades

How I once knew you
And yet
I can’t easily escape it

Every day I see it
I watch as the virtual worlds
That I love
And the content creators
That I support
Become victim to this distasteful word

Another word that many
Do not wish to indulge

Yet, I watch those who use social media
Engage in it though a war of words
They paint with broad strokes
While using gender and race
As ammunition

I feel the crimson shades
That rest in my pocket

My anger grows
Hatred burns
Ready to fuel the inferno
That is my emotions

I draw the air into my lungs
As I want to release it
And bellow a shout that simply says

You narrow minded fucks
That dwell in the cesspool
Called Twitter

You see the world
In black and white
You call people racist
You call people phobic

Because they choose to have an opinion
And not conform to the corporate bullshit
Because they choose to present their art
And tell a story
That doesn’t push a political agenda
That ruins the story

You even call people out
Because they choose to support a president
You call people out for choosing to show respect
By shaking the presidents hand

I feel the hatred burn
I want to keep going
I want to keep feeding into it
But I choose not to

I choose
To see the individual
And get to know them
Before I pass judgement

To those who say it is race
And gender
Who choose to hate
You are mistaken

It is the individual
That is racist
It is the individual
That is sexist
It is the individual
That chooses to hate

To those who read this poem
Only to choose to see
In race and gender
I have a simple message

Fuck off
And have a nice day

To the narrow minded fucks on Twitter
Keep being salty
We can always use more salt
For the popcorn
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When Silence Reigns

Part One

The Martyr

 Chains wrap tight around the wrists

As they rub her wrists

Into a raw meat


Outside the rain falls

She could hear the water

As it streams down the walls

From the barred windows above her

She pulls the cloth tight

As the cold bites deep 


They caged her

For speaking the truth

They caged her

For not following the corporate regime

They caged her

For not caring about the right political agenda


Around her only silence reigns

As not even the wind would stir the rubble

To break that cold unforgiving silence


Footsteps echo in the stone halls

They give off their heavy tones 

That sound an ominous omen

Of approaching death


They would make her the example

They would make the stupid mistake of making her a martyr

They would not care about it

They would act as if it didn’t matter


She knew the truth

She knew they were afraid

Of these small platforms

Of these small competitors


That could very well take away the crown

From the monopolies that rule

The world of content creation

Of social media

Of the silver screen

Of content creation platforms 


They stand in in front of her in their fancy suits

Fur coats keep the cold away from them

As black shoes shine with the torchlight


Lips curve into a grin as she smiles

She could hear the little camera drone 

Hiding in the darkness

As she finds her captors will not give her a noose

They will give her a death

At the hands of a pistol


Smoke fills the air

As the hammer slams down

A loud thunder echo’s in the prison cell

Before her world go’s black

And silence reigns










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A poem I wrote recently. This one is aimed at Youtube for all the shit they've been doing to content creators over the years. I'm adding my voice to the fight through this poem.

Goodbye, Youtube

A poem by DpsMiqote


It was what got me

Into content creation

I found my platform

And I began my journey

I walked my path 

watching as others wished to watch my journey

They commented

Conversations were had


I helped them


I entertained


I just like to see the criticism

I wanted to get better

I wanted to keep making more content

But eventually I stepped away

I kept going back 

Every once in awhile

To try again


My world began to change

My friend once told me

I should have never walked away

I should have kept sharing my journeys

Through these digital worlds I love so much

I could have been a star 

Here on this platform I chose

Now I wonder if this choice

Is a blessing in disguise

And not a mistake

As my friend asked me a question

What happened to me?

I used to be so happy

I used to have my goals

I used to have my dreams

I wonder about this question

As I begin to realize why

My happiness diminished

This platform I chose

Called Youtube

Began to change

This industry 

That created these digital worlds

Began to change

This industry

That created stories for the silver screen

Began to change

There used to be a time 

When Youtube

When these industries

Cared about its consumers

And creators

Now that has all changed

As corporations

And their greedy CEO’s

Wear their green shades

And only care about the paper

Painted in a green color

It causes me to ask myself a question

Am I happy?

I don’t know if I am

As I find myself reborn 

I have become a double-edged sword

A part of my passion to create

Still exist as I still wish to share my adventures

In the very few digital worlds

That I still enjoy

Part of me also knows

That I will now forever carry a venom

Towards the platform

And the industries

That I once loved

Goodbye, Youtube

I hope that one day you will wake up

And hate yourself for what you chose to become

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So the first post's are out. The first work in progress tier has been created and I will be adding something to it here in the next couple of days. I will also have a free series soon as well.
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To Play the Devil. Available on Amazon.


Here's a sneak peak. I figure if I can't hook you on the first paragraph then that's not good. 

So many labs destroyed, so many innocent people murdered; all for a false sense 
of justice. At some point she began to kill just for the simplicity of killing. Hammering 
away at the metal memories of restless nights filled her mind. So many of those nights 
led to her using alcohol to numb a pain that could never truly heal. Shaking her head 
Anna began to focus on her work for a few seconds more.    


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And the finish

When Passion Dies - Part 4 - A New Enemy

Behind the green cloud of poison

Another follows

As a red menace approaches the shore

From this cloud a new enemy joins the fight


Blood drips from their clawed hands

Mouths are sewn shut

Muffled screams could be heard

As these red skinned monsters

Drag the oppressed behind them

With spiked chains wrapped around their throats


Among these I find the willing slaves

I watch the Humans

I watch the Orcs

As they willing silence the oppressed

In exchange for a green paper

Painted crimson with blood



Rise up and fight them


I call to these Humans

These Orcs


My thoughts become crimson clouds

Of anger

Before turning to clear clouds

Of purpose


I shout

I will not forgive

I will not forget

I will not wash my hands of this


My purpose becomes clear as battle resumes

I shall eviscerate my enemies with the might of my pen

With written word I shall fight back


The fight will be long

The fight will be tough

But, with hope in my heart

I will add my voice to the growing chorus

To save this video game industry

Before it is destroyed

By the poisoned cloud

Called corporate greed

And the red menace 

That threatens to silence

Our creative freedoms


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Lets keep going

When Passion Dies - Part 3 - Hope

The poison claws near my face

I can feel decaying breath

Touch my cheeks as the skin

Starts to wither


My anger rises

My hatred rises

My passion turns to fury


No, I cry

My passion never died

It has just taken a new form


Around me flowers bloom

As a beam of devastating energy

Turns this crowd that surrounds me

Into dust


I look up to see a frame

Made for war



It says


Stand and fight back

Stand and remember those

That restored your hope


I stand as a silent figure

With long white hair

And a wolf pendant

Helps me up

As his other hand 

Is ready to wield a spell


A dark energy flashes

As a bow of purple energy

Is held by a cloaked figure


I remember my time as a Guardian

Freed from the demon’s called Activision

With hope that this poisoned cloud will not take them

I remember my time in Eorzea 

As I wielded my Samurai’s blade

To fight back against Eorzea’s enemies


And I remember

My time as a Tenno

I remember the Second Dream

As I find my hope restored

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Onto the next part

When Passion Dies - Part 2 - Mayhem of Battle

This poisoned cloud

Lands on this serene shore

Creatures leave the cloud

As the ground dies beneath their steps

The poison drips from their claws

Their fangs are shown as they are wrapped

In a decaying green paper


Releasing the air

Buried deep within my lungs

I sound my battle cry


I strike

I cut

I slash

I speak my words

Their power unleashing 

Lashing lighting

And searing flames


Chaos rings

As the sand becomes choked

With crimson and green paint

Spilled by the fighting warriors


I watch as my hope

Begins to fade

My passion for this world

For this video game industry

Begins to die

As it is grounded into a fine sand


Daggers pierce my skin

And my heart

As the Dragonborn warriors

As the wanderers fall

Followed by the Orcs

And Humans


Not like this 

I cry out


There is still hope

It still exists


But that hope starts to die

As this army

Born from the poisoned cloud

Of corporate greed

Marches on us remaining few

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Time for a poem in four parts. I wrote this during Blizzcon of 2019. Enjoy!

When Passion Dies - Part 1 - Threatened Shores

On this shore I sit 

As a green cloud of poison

Slowly approaches


Wind blows past me 

Causing the sand to take flight

In my hands sits my book

That tells so many stories

Of the characters I played

In these virtual worlds


I open the pages as the waves crash 

Against the rocks in a futile effort

To dislodge them from their home


Once I was a hunter

Young, naive

Not yet poisoned by war


I stood proudly with the Horde

As expansions took me from battlefield

To battlefield

Now that pride has turned to forgotten memories


I was once a Demon Hunter

Crossbows at the ready 

I relished the fight

As hordes of Demons 

Were slaughtered for threatening Sanctuary

As well as for what I hoped

Would be sweet loot


I once stood as Hero

I readied my shield 

I stood as the tip of the spear

And the shield that would protect my team

Now, the passion to heal

The passion to tank

Has all but left me

As Overwatch can no longer 

Hold my interest


I close the book to stand

I draw my sword readying myself

For the fight ahead

Against this poisonous cloud 

Called corporate greed

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Welcome, my goal is to become a writer/content creator via recording and/or uploading content. I will probably tackle writing in a way that some pieces will be free. I don't want to put everything behind a pay wall. We'll see how it all go's as the days pass. Anyways, welcome and I hope you will enjoy my work.
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