Through the Wastland

Author's Notes: Okay, my try at a Fallout Poem. I've recently had a creative explosion in my mind (poetic explosion) and I have decided to use the scraps. Here is one of those scraps.

He walked out of the Vault

Blinded by the sun

He looked around and thought,

"This won't be fun."

His task was simple

He couldn't stop

He had to find a virus

Without spilling a drop

With a dog by his side

And a pistol in his hand

He set off on a journey

Into the wasteland

He met many people

As he traveled the harsh plains

He helped many a person

And put others through pains

He met great obstacles

He had to fight through

He had to eat a man

Maybe even two

With a dog by his side

And a pistol in his hand

He continued his journey

Through the Great Sand

As he went on through

He become well known

Suddenly one day

He left to the unknown

When he came back

He didn't look real

He was covered in armor

From the Brotherhood of Steel

With a dog by his side

And a pistol in his hand

He thought of his home

As he traveled the land

He saw many a thing

Much like rotten feet

And made a new friend

Whose name was Dogmeat

Dogmeat was loyal

He was great

He always took hits

It must have been fate

With a dog by his side

And a pistol in his hand

He never looked back

He never was in demand

He saw strange things

One was a ghoul

His name was Harold

He seemed to drool

He had a tree in his head

That seemed to throb

He called it Herbert

But it was really Bob

With a dog by his side

And a pistol in his hand

He went into awar

He didn't take command

The Enclave appeared

With some fiendish plan

The brotherhood almost failed

They relied on one man

He took his pistol

And won the fight

But he had been hit

He died that night

And Dogmeat howled

As another master died

And again he set out

Into the land that's dried

And the Vault did wither

It shriveled and crumbled

They cursed all war

As they were crushed by a rumble

And the people wonder

Usually with a buzz

Why these things happen…

.

Well, that's because

.

.

War

.

.

War never changes

Author's Notes: Okay, now how was that, hmm? Tell me what you think.