As it fell upon a day
In the merry month of May,
Searching topics laid
by players with posts made,
Beasts were slain, and birds were hunted,
Farming plots grew, hatchets were blunted;
Everyone grinding did moan,
Save the Iron accounts alone:
They strive in skills with goals of maxing,
Despite the effort being quite taxing,
When death takes them, it is a pity,
Especially after reaching the Elven City,
Then taking to social media to complain,
Scarcely from anguish can they refrain;
For their grief is so clearly shown,
Making me think upon my own.
Ah, thought I, my words are in vain,
As my problems don't equal this kind of pain.
But if your plans do go wrong, then dry your eyes;
Comfort can be found in the clan called
Clear Skies
.
Bump!