Battlemaster Poetry/Mugurk
Here be the poetry of the late night musings of battlemaster.
Under construction... And i have no idea how to do said construction
Haiku's
Maxim Jones |
by Mick Mugurk |
January 2010 |
Florence the red.
Trademark cold frown abound. Smells of milkcaine. |
To hunt a squirrel |
by Mick Mugurk |
January 2010 |
To catch a squirrel.
You need but only one tool. The windmill. |
Goblin Invasion |
by Mick Mugurk |
January 2010 |
Filth and Ruin.
Makarian hordes bring. Oh the smell. |
Honourless suicide |
by Mick Mugurk |
January 2010 |
The world proclaim.
Blackmore are honourless dogs. Poison forgives. |
Plans aflame |
by Mick Mugurk |
January 2010 |
Xaphan the cruel.
An ambition of fuel. Burned like his tail. |