Master Chief's Hell
Posted By: Master Kim<maimkim@hotmail.com>
Date: 8 November 2005, 2:25 am
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18 grenades are clumped into a pile,
Right next to a stack of dead marines and their guns,
All the while,
A nearby warthog basks in the sun.
Some sadistic teenager from the Buckeye State,
The direction of where he wants the warthog to fly,
He contemplates.
Master Chief drives the car,
Over the pile of the balls of death,
For the Spartan plans to fly far.
A flashing trail of blue,
Followed by a frag grenade,
I ask NASA please don't sue,
For lift-off has been made.
Over the Cartographer's Isle,
High into the air,
The Chief stays for a while,
And he is in the middle of no-where.
He sees cliffs and trees,
Beaches and a pelican downed,
It is surely a moment to seize,
But his grin quickly fades into a frown.
Plummeting back to the forsaken ring,
Bloody murder the cyborg screams.
Waving his hands for something to hold,
Only to touch the high-altitude cold.
A grunt looks up and sees something falling down,
As fast as a speeding comet,
To the ground.
Panic strikes the alien trooper,
For it fears it will die,
He drops into a desperate stupor,
From the speeding menace in the sky.
Elites, jackals,
Hunters and various alien rascals,
Look up and see,
Our green, battle-scarred Spartan- falling as fast as fast can be!
A large blue platform appears in the sky,
"Revert to last checkpoint" is highlighted bright,
If Master Chief thinks his misery will stop when he dies,
He is wrong, for he cannot go into the light.
Master Chief blinks and is back on the ground,
Dawning comprehension gives him fear,
For grenades are piled into a mound,
And a warthog is near.
This is Master Chief's Hell,
For he will beg for death,
But that will never happen as far as he can tell.
Let us all pray for our Spartan hero,
For purgatory he will remain in for quite some time,
Until that sadistic teenager turns off his Xbox,
And now, it is the end for this melancholy rhyme.
Bottom line:
Stop killing Master Chief!
And your time!
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