Long Templars Poems
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The Tal-Dareem are fighting-mad;
They've realized they've just been had.
Expect soon Zealots and Stalkers,
Immortals and those "cliff walkers".
Zerg Hydralisks are assembling just out of range,
Supported by Roaches, Infestors, Banelings,…
The Mutalisks are hovering beyond our turrets,
Brutalisks are moving—it’s looking quite desperate.
What matter's most: who'll be standing last,
So let's hit 'em hard and hit 'em fast.
There’s a silver lining for each “end of the world”:
My shift’s almost done and my Siege Tank’s been rebuilt.
I could spend my last hours paralyzed in fright;
But no, I got a date with that cute medic tonight.
Protoss Carriers and Voids will fill the sky,
And Dark Templars may be sneakin' by.
Double the turrets, add more bunkers--
Fill them with Marines and Marauders.
What matters most: who's standing last,
So hit 'em hard and hit 'em fast!
I took several stim-packs off a dead Marine,
And I’ll take a few jolts if she gives me the green.
So all those bug-eyed-monsters better stay out of sight…
Better not mess with me and my Medic tonight.
So we’re all out of minerals, almost out of Vespene.
We’re training our last Marauders, building our last Viking.
But if our Ghosts and Banshees hit the Zerg and Protoss just right,
I might still be around for my Medic tonight.
Got a date with that blue-eyed young medic tonight.
You know, the one that I’ve had for months in my sights.
If my Siege Tank’s a rockin’, don’t come a knockin’.
Got a date with that pretty sweet medic tonight.
Jim Raynor's Raiders will soon be back;
Load your ammo, get ready to counter-attack!
So train more Reapers for rear missions:
Sneak around back, take out their pylons.
Make sure we're the ones left standing last.
Just keep hitting 'em hard and hitting 'em fast.
If I was to take a word, say focus,
Stand it on its head,
And ask with growing sense of dread,
Why my friend did you just now,
Fly upon this particular
Moment’s verbal locus?
Torture I might answer, like waterboarding,
Might explain a thing or two.
Indeed the stakes are dear,
And the coast far from clear-
For foggy shores clarity prevents,
The utter contingency of cluttered events.
Focus is the mine shaft of the mind,
Magnifying that which falls
Into categories of significance:
Signs of a trance, a mental dance,
By which thinking signifies
The magnificent follies
Of a man upside down
In a world of lies.
No subtlety there,
Poet banging hair chest bare,
The mental frequency hertz,
Screeching, scratching, snatching,
Lose bits of hurt out of the air.
The mathematics of falling
Made clear by Newton,
His numbers uncovering
What was
Always there:
A god already in free fall,
The Fall, the autumn of our birth,
The forsaken garden,
Two dummies hand in hand,
An undulating snake,
A world of entanglement,
All fleeing into a desert dream.
For what? To where? And why?
The three double jews of the trinity
Which Law forbade no One to ask,
Yet no body did
Put focus to task.
She reappears all the time.
The rabbit hole stood for what was to come,
The worms therein what was done.
The trip down was fun,
Getting out gave more than the sum.
The prism diffracted the invisible
Beams of light,
An assortment of possibilities followed,
The world explained, the mind contained,
A boundless infinite void of space,
Surrounding us,
Disgracing us,
For we had to face,
The borders of our place.
Trapped inside
We looked the other way,
Attic floors, token doors,
A distilled virtue, forgeries for another day.
The sky was not the limit, we were.
The atoms of the mind mere reflections
Of our best guessing games.
There though, lay our best hope.
After the bloodshed
She reappeared again.
But only after.
Choices like Templars into the night,
Distracted the courtesies of a harmonious cosmos,
God had blood and died,
Men embraced humiliation and cried,
Change, the abomination of free will,
Altered the fabric of time.
Focus put by for a rainy day.
Distraction, the play thing
Of an unruly monster lurking in the shadows of thought,
Vomiting a pile of disassociations.
Soldiers raise their holy swords,
To the heavens as they,
Give the oath to protect God and the church.
Such swords are adorned with gems,
Blessed only by God,
Which glows with a testament of honor.
The white tunic instills,
Innocence and purity,
As the red cross symbolizes,
The blood of Christ.
These promises are only kept,
By their silence and,
Giving their life to keep them.
The king and pope betrayed,
The soldiers of Christ.
Yet, after eight hundred years,
Their silence still reigns.
The rumors of their escape,
To distant lands is true.
God blessed the knight's templars.
They kept their oath.
They kept their promise.
One thing is very true,
Treasured documents, Gold, and the chalice,
Has never been found.
I would like to think the heart and soul,
Of the templars resides in heaven,
Protecting the one person that,
They vowed to never leave or betray.
LIMITATIONS OF POWER
Mortal men are in different sizes,
our gifted lives are in phases.
No lifetime is made to rival another less a tie;
The sky is too large for each not to fly.
If you're con artist don't try to swindle
him whose mind is a detective and isn't fickle
else your ephemeral lights will dwindle.
If you're the pen, don't battle with my muse
else you spill ink, laying bare masterpiece.
If you're the devil don't battle a god nor cavil
except you are the heavenly sequel.
If you're the MMA star don't battle ISREAL Adesanya
except you're the real style bender.
If you're illuminati thinking you control the world,
don't near Faith Generals who embodies God.
If you're the roost king, don't battle Slim Shady
except you're real Marshall Mathers who's born ready.
Despite the invention of Baphomet to look bigger,
Templars won't rage in the face of the Alpha and Omega.
Every one is king or ruler of their space board
But we are all lords, lord by One Lord, Our Lord,
Irrespective of each either being Even or Odd.
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright© 12th November, 2022.
The Tal-Dareem are fighting-mad;
They've realized they've just been had.
Expect soon Zealots and Stalkers,
Immortals and those "cliff walkers".
What matter's most: who's standing last,
So hit 'em hard and hit 'em fast.
Carriers and Voids will fill the sky,
And Dark Templars may be sneakin' by.
Double the turrets, add more bunkers--
Fill them with Marines and Marauders.
What matters most: who's standing last,
So hit 'em hard and hit 'em fast!
Jim's Raiders' troops will soon be back;
Get ready to counter-attack!
So train more Reapers for rear missions:
Sneak around back, take out their pylons.
Make sure we're the ones left standing last.
Just hit 'em hard and hit 'em fast.