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‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the stars
Not a creature was stirring from Madrigal to Mars; We thought the war over, we could finally go home, To see friends and family, or remember them alone. The children, now orphans, were snug in their beds, But visions of monsters still danced in their heard, Parangosky and Hood raised a glass up to toast, For survival was more than they thought they could boast. When down in the barracks there arose such a clatter, A Marine had just seen something wrong on his chatter. Away to the window did everyone flash, When from outside there came an almighty crash. The alien moons lit up the strange Martian snow, Gave light to the land where once nothing did grow. When what to my wondering eyes should appear, But half of a frigate in the countryside near, We drove to the crash site and cut through the hull, And heard a strange voice come from an odd blue glow. “Where’s Arthur, where’s Malcolm, where’s Jerome and Alice? Where’s Solomon, Will, Daisy and Douglass? To the frontlines of battle, to the front of the war! Saving humanity, they died away all.” As the Martian dust before the wild hurricane fly, When we met with an obstacle, we took to the sky; With jetpacks equipped to the top hull we flew, With a bag full of cutting gear, some of it new. In a twinkling, we saw through hull scorched black as coal, A green fist smash up and rip open a hole. As I drew in my head, and was turning around, Up the gap from inside came for the man with a bound: He was dressed all in green, from his head to his foot, And his armour was all tarnished with ashes and soot; An MA5C was slung on his back, Like a war god he looked, and we asked, “what the frack?” He visor was amber – how it twinkled! We saw Ourselves in that faceplate, long troubled by war; His fists were still raised, holding two grenades, Ready to make his enemies shades; Around him there shimmered an almost-there light, An energy shield wrapped around the man tight; The metal was cold and steaming, the frost Evaporating off this man thought long lost; He was seven foot tall, and build like a tank, And that he was on our side the gods I did thank; A figure of myth and of legend off the shelf, And I laughed when I saw him in spite of myself; A twinkle of visor and a twist of his head Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread. He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, Filling his ammo pouches; then turned with a jerk, And raising his hand to his brow in salute He dropped back down the ventilation chute The wheel of a Warthog he reached with a run We clambered in, shotgun, and me on the gun; But I heard him exclaim, ere we drove out of sight – “Happy Christmas to all, now I’m finishing this fight.” |
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^ Per above. [I wake up. To see nothing][Everything is silent] [The Dark Grey Clouds foretell][An Ominous End]|Prepare For The Inevitable
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- My stores have had Christmas stuff up since the day after Halloween >_> --Am I a Lion, or a Lamb? Or a Boy? Saint or Sinner? The Lost Books 13:53, December 11, 2011 (UTC)
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Very cute. A little sloppy in parts, but overall very cute. --Dragonclaws(talk) 19:06, December 11, 2011 (UTC)
Wordless. Since I can't come up with a comment, I'm just going to "sing" you a song, based on your experience on Halo Fanon :)
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Good job! I can see you worked hard. =P — Rex 
(Talk To Me) (My Work)