Ode to the Hero of Newerth
First pick and ready is the only way
that I should be so faithfully played.
You scream and shout over the "useless pick"
yet I remain silent and to my lane I stick.
I buy all my gear and head straight for top,
not uttering a word, I will not stop.
The game progresses; slowly obtaining gear.
I will ignore all fights - my teammates fear.
In my own little world, just me and the creeps.
Ping all you want, I'll ignore your beeps.
You say I am useless, but wait 'til forty minutes.
My farm will be triumphant, it will have no limits.
My fateful time has finally arrived
when my items slots are filled, and my gpm has thrived.
Now I stalk in the shadows, staying low to the ground,
hunting lonely enemies, the glory of Night Hound.
I searched and searched for someone alone,
but my seeking was futile the mini-map shone.
For my team and theirs were caught in a fight,
so I ran towards the chaos with all of my might.
The clanging of swords and wizzing of spells,
echoed throughout all of Newerth as this story tells.
With a pounce and cloud, I got at least three kills,
my team must be cheering with chants and thrills.
Covered in dust, the conclusion in due time
I ran for my refuge - the fountain of mine.
I glance down at the field that held this great battle,
to behold that my team has been slaughter like cattle.
How could this be, I killed at least three?!
Yet my team is dead, and they were counting on me.
Emotionless calculation began in my mind,
as I looked at the bloody spoils behind.
At least I lived, and made it this far
to see the only thing that matters, a boosted kdr.
- love Kuwabara