15-06-2002 18:40									#1
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Conquerers come over a field of red.
Bringing Musketeers, Cannons and Dread
And- the Great Leader, whose people he led.

Into the city of night,
city of light...
City, of wailing, screeching fright

Boston Hath fallen
to the oppressor who hath callen
upon enemies dark

clouds of evil hover above
there is no time, no time for love
and the windows of the imperial palace are stark

end of part I.

	15-06-2002 18:42									#2
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cool, i never read a civ poem before (or any poem for that matter) but its very good.

	15-06-2002 18:43									#3
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Oh, whence came the oppressor?
To slaughter the lesser?
The Great Evil Tester?

The Zulu of the Great North.
Led by Shaka, King of the North?
That river from whence his people once sallied forth.

Mayhap it seems that once grand America has lost
The Emperor, his coin hath he tossed
Across the river, grand though it may be.

America hath but one Trireme!
And It existeth near the ice city of Ghrime.
And that, my friends is what I see

end of part II

Last edited by DarkCloud on 21-06-2002 at 20:31

	15-06-2002 18:48									#4
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Thank you trickey.
I write as inspiration comes

--
Dicey though the waters may be-
sail dost he,
the Captain of the Trireme

He sails with a cannon, that wast built
By the desparate people, who feel guilt
for they did not help their northern lands, and instead built

A city of ice,
Growing the rice,
Building a Colosseum...

They now regretteth their ways
And hope that their production dost pays
Now they must champion a Cannon to Free them.

---
part 4

mayhap does it sail
over and over the resource's whale
leaving the wake in its trail

upon over the stormy sea,
traveler dost it be
hoping to help liberate the-

City of light, city of night,
For once great Boston, will it fight.
Tonight,

And near to the shore does it come
Hoping that the near coming battle will be won
Tonight,

	15-06-2002 18:58									#6
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wow!

	15-06-2002 19:09									#7
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part 5
V.

Land, will it make it?
As the hopeful newspapers of Ghrime hath already writ?
Storms? Will they destroy it bit by bit?

No! They shall not-
The trireme's Captain has thought!
And carried through, the cannon landed, has bought

Hope for the Americans,
and Boston so near they can hear the drams.
Of Musketeers, the foul and evil Zulu.

Asault, oh do they do
The cannons fire at the walls, in lieu
of firing at Shaka, the hated Zulu.

VI.

The walls have been breached!
Boston has been reached!
Tho the Zulu, A lesson hath been teached.

War in the streets,
War in markets of meats,
The musketeers, ... , Retreats!

The music is loud
Boston is once again so proud.
And the Cannon, and the Captain?

And the City of Ghrime,
No longer dead to the world- Now a bastion of hope and rhyme
What once was thought could never happen.

Epilogue

But, says the Captain.
All that may be and all that was.
Could crumble, all to dust,

If we all do be,
As complacent as he,
and his city, Once happened to be.

So, I leave thee, my friend with this proverb-
"Never ignore what thou shouldst see...
Prepare always thy own armiee."