Rocketing bop #Poetry

A poem written by Lee Sonogan

Inspired by true events within the video game world of Rust! (Full video soon!)

Vanilla-like to 20 times,

This beginning of a new adventure; (For Now) I am not alone,

Lit up are all the other’s crimes,

Like many other wipes; we start near a safe zone.

Spawning in to see the differences,

Mods focus on elements of gameplay.

Two noobs to teach full of ignorance,

No grind resulting in ideal shared knowledge to give away.

Packed to the rafters,

Sound of players is everywhere.

Full of chads and masters;

A photograph is randomly taken within the neutral blare.

Recycled most before knowing about crafting anywhere,

I make multiple guns just for the free ammo.

Instant kits to use and wear,

A path past the snow to build the chateau.

High-quality towers rising to the skies,

No one seemed to be home.

Carrying tens of thousands of supplies,

The base is going to need to be a somewhat thick honeycomb.

Starting with a 2×.4,

I was ambitious to be as big as possible.

Lasting more than one day shall be the real score,

Two friends went out because it was affordable.

Both die to enemy fire,

Although one kill with precision was made.

Left to solo, I upgraded before I personally retire,

My biggest base ever surveyed.

Luck on the next day,

My walls were still in place.

Gate missing from the archway,

Building block was in our space.

Commencing the raid at once,

2 C4 and rockets will do.

Highlighted without silence,

All the server knew.

Locking myself in before they came,

Doubting safety, there were boxes to check.

Guns and sulfur to claim,

Profiting what put in; I did not leave a spect.

Three trips back and forth,

An external tool cupboard and a gate closing it all off.

Duos or squads fighting in the north,

So many more things to do in the map that could pay off.

Plans interrupted as an helicopter lands,

Changing inventory I prepare for what is going on.

Instead of shaking hands,

Attention minutes ago draws some hotshots to spawn.

Bang! goes the side to the only weakness,

There was no time to bolt action from the second floor.

Matching firepower with quickness,

I see them next to my shop keep windowed door.

Outnumber by one,

Opening the door gave a dude a surprise.

Unable to run,

A shotgun trap hit him between his eyes.

Cocky to get one already,

Bop bopped me with an assault rifle.

Killing me a few times made me unsteady,

More explosives; a retort missile for a missile?

This was the last stand,

A hole was in the closest airlock.

Acting at what was planned.

Old mate Bop was sent back to the beginning rock.

Successful defence in a moderate pop,

The patching up was satisfying.

Posterity got the chop,

But that day I become one of the undying.

https://entertainmentcultureonline.com/

https://ungroovygords.com/

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.