Okay fun story to this one: With less than a day until I had to turn in entries for my creative writing class I went the way of the inner nerd and wrote something about Gears. I suspect I'm becoming a gearhead. So here's my wonky poem enjoy.
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It's time for horde, we gather four.
But we know our deaths assured
The map is picked the round begins,
The server loads, We'll try to win.
Bring the lancer, bring grenades
Grab the shield, before it fades.
They charge our lines, get no effect.
Cause it's our lives we hold in check.
Boomers rompin, with boots a stompin
And all we have are shields to stop em.
Rack the shotties, prime the torques
They want a party, we'll pop the corks.
When out of ammo and pushed to shove
We charge with chainsaws raised above
The round will end, where we defend
It all depends on if we're dead.
And if we died, yes if we fell,
we'd have good stories left to tell.
For to die this day is as good as any
And we got the chance to fight the many.