Letters, Press Conferences, Overheard Mutterings
Related to Scribbl CLIMAX VIII
Livin' Thing
Memories of a ball. A beat poem.
I am exalted and excited being so close to the dreamed zone it was a first half of a lot of sweat, brawl and nothing of dream zone curse
In this second half, I hope to arrive and more bathed in more blood ....
After a few strokes and a couple scrums a wing takes me towards the zone, when unexpectedly I receive a big blow from behind, I did not know about it... darkness and rage. F**k, do not let me get there! Rage and anger... I slowly awake and see the bearer stunned asking me what would happen now.
I feel the rumble around me, today I want to celebrate a touchdown, but the conflict of the meeting has not allowed
I am between the feet of these savages and nobody raises me to reach the zone. A catcher comes for me, Oh God raises me up and runs to the zone... he tries hard and makes a dodge... an opportunity, a celebration, I see it closer and closer... my ropes and beats throb feeling the celebration and the joy... but misery, fury and curses... the catcher vanishes in the line... could not stand the wear of going a little more, a going for it that was all.... I want to hit him, take his heart but I can not... he let me go. I have left the chance and an orc returned me ..
So far I have arrived
I turn to see the clock and see time, I hope to get to the area ...
BaXi the ball