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Old 03-15-2004, 08:36 AM   #1
JediLearner
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Join Date: Mar 2004
Location: Denmark
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My GF poem!

From the Land Of The Living, i cross the Road,
To the Land Of The Dead, i must fullfill my oath,
to become a reaper, i don't know why,
to harvest souls their tickets, to go to the sky,
i don't know when i'm going to leave,
it feels like being bothered, by a happiness-thief,
then one day my demon said,
"my name's Glottis, i don't get many visitors!"
and i said: "Im Calavera, Manny Calavera!" while i slammed the doors,
i found a woman,Mercedes Colomar,
she was as dead as i,but good i her (former) heart,
I couldn't get her, the supposed nun,
when she left i was imprisoned by Domino and Don,
Then Salvador Limones helped me, it was a better day,
he took me to the, LSA,
I helped them and got to the Forrest,
I walked through the gate of hell, on bones with Glottis,
Then atlast we saw the light,
Rubacava, the city of might,
for one year, i was here,
then an evening Mrs. Colomar appear,
she flees with Domino on the greatest ship,
i followed in hurry with my schyte, ready to rip,
We stopped at the edge of the world,
Domino was evil, he took my girl,we found some dead nuns, it was a great riddle
,i rescued her, and the angels little,
i fought domino, he died in a BOOOM!,
we was going to the gate of doom.
When we arrived a year later,
when we arrived, in a box i found,
Bruno Martinez,(as usual all goodness was gone), that was when i finally done,
my Bone Wagon ready to the final run.
We hurried to El Marrow,
with Meche, Glottis and Olivia, the whole row,
We planned to overthrow Hector Lemans,
you know him, the fat guy with many demands,
Olivia was evil, poor Salvador,
i couldn't beare it anymore,
i cryed but this thing wasn't over for this little mouse,
i had to confront Lemans in his Glasshouse,
i shooted the tank, it sprouted,
into his veins, i doubted,
he died, i was happy, i finally did,
my trip to the eternal rest with Meche and the angel kid(s)


With bony hands I hold my partner, On soulless feet we cross the floor. The music stops,
as if to answer an empty knocking at the door. It seems his skin was sweet as mango when last I held him to my breast. But now, we dance this grim fandango and will four years before we rest!
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