He finds nothing but mundaneness,
Yet he has his play.
A boy finds a cup.
For him it is a boat,
Sailing to the far islands.
He finds nothing but mundaneness,
Yet he has his play.
A boy finds a box.
For him it is a portal,
Gaining entrance to the computer.
He mingles with the softwares,
And with another box he comes out.
He finds nothing but mundaneness,
Yet he has his play.
A boy grows up.
He thrives by typing and serving,
But for him work is play.
Thinking his job as a dungeon crawl,
Passing traps and dealing with monsters.
With wit and hard work he defeats them all,
Bringing treasures and glory to home.
He finds nothing but mundaneness,
Yet he still has his play.
Thousand trials for a sword.
Sennight Gauntlets I shall join,
Wretched mistakes be all gone.
Allies at my beck and call,
Cards tossed around for their lore.
Three strikes down for a reward,
Now to gather greater force.
Dice oppose and all rebel,
To assaults someone had fell.
Glory close yet glory far,
Leaving one with endless scars.
Victors’ debt must be repaid,
Losers’ sins all washed away.
All is clear when the coin flips,
To game’s joy I shall call dibs.
Wealth, time, knowledge.
Yet when all has been emptied
Does sadness come after it’s lost.
Thus some tell the demigods
To make a plane for themselves;
When a demigod leaves the realm,
A new god is born.
Yet after one ascended what have they gained?
A seat on the high heavens, gazing down on humanity?
Ambrosia both delicious and dull, elixirs giving both life and death?
May I here query the gods,
Sky and Sea flirting with mortals, Wisdom mingling with heroes.
Why the gods on high yearn for the world,
and the mortals fight for the heavens?
Demigods, do not shred your desires,
For a god’s life is numb like calm water.
The ones on high yearn for human life,
As mortals laugh for simple food,
And weep for a touching story.
Only you have the best of both,
The emotions, the essence of human;
And the inner world of divinity.
I see the days as dark, I long for them to pass;
To drunk myself in leisure repeat and repeat,
As happiness is fleeting, only despair can I see.
I am nothing but dust, so why not rest a while?
That thing is the now and I dream it frozen.
But for the creeping deadlines I just want to flee,
With nothing but an empty husk working with all these.
The sun is too bright, it makes me hard to see.
So I drown myself in bleakness, to turn away from thee.
Yet the moon, the moon, can you treat me as your child?
I hope you soothe me, but you are too busy.
Now against the sunlight, I run with all my might;
Against the moonlight, I sleep to be awake.
Only at that time am I powerful as I should be;
Am my ideas all reaching, brimming with the midnight's glow.
Fifty two cards decides whose the best.
The fair fight starts right from commencing,
Points are thrown and trash is tossed.
They null their suits and rid their toppers.
Lest the debris some they catch,
With the evil black queen they all dread.
Soon all are injured and one slightly fine.
No codes are traded, no handshakes are made,
A contract bounded by a scorecard glance.
It’s three against one, fine to win,
Only unfair against the would-be victor.
Sacrifices are made, stars are aimed.
Subtle tricks done to prevent the loss.
But just a betrayal, points diverted,
The limit is crashed and there it ends.
