![]() |
37 bottles.
Remembering the past. Losing yourself in it all. Memory rules all. |
38 bottles.
-bows to Skiperdoo for an awesome haiku, and then laughs, for he made a rhymey.- -bows to Crest, for also being being the best.- Several gather. The weight of the world hanging. Futures decided. |
39 bottles.
Going with a theme. The hardest task of all man, is falling in line. |
40 bottles.
Those who have left us. The ones embracing vast shame. Those whom never came. |
41 bottles.
Rum that is missing. There should be more than haiku. Skippy skipped too far. |
42 bottles.
Blood shed needlessly. Why do we fight against time? Peace would save all lives! |
43 bottles.
Walking together. Through the forest of intension. Sharing far and wide. |
44 bottles.
The shadow looming Over the earth, water, air. Darkness always there. |
45 bottles.
In the end, no more. Apocalyptic visions. Can it be avoided? |
46 bottles.
A buzzy head droops. A heart lays broken, in tears. The first of many. |
45 bottles.
Then comes a light. In the darkest depths of the night. To show the way that's right. (rhyme!) |
48 bottles.
A flickering lamp, Fighting the shadow battle, Stays strong in the night. |
Quote:
A realization. A friend amongst us has lied. Eight syllables there. |
50 bottles.
A facepalm is near. It happens very often. The Rum Master sighs. |
51 bottles. I don't think it's eight.
The shadows still stay ready. Light lives without foothold. The darkest night is here. |
| All times are GMT. The time now is 12:53 PM. |
Powered by vBulletin® Version 3.8.11
Copyright ©2000 - 2026, vBulletin Solutions Inc.