Beloved Tribe

[Gashuk]

T'deepest green, a flash o' grom'damned fel,
Upheld by our old orcish tradition,
Spillin' fresh red blood an' guts; shit t'smell.
But we won't be 'gain held t'submission.
Yer changed me, t'views I could nay foresee,
Dedicated, t'Spirits made me great.
Such I could not complain o'ever flee,
A home tha' kept me like a livin' mate.
I drew blood fer yer an' I had nay doubt,
Wars were fought in yer name, I fought, I served,
Screamin' 'Lok'tar' t'honour yer with shout.
An' as I gave t'Pinks all they deserved,
I remembered t'annals; vows describe,
"Fer the Blood!" of t'Red Blade Tribe.



I felt the need to pervert my original sonnet written for Kingdom of Arathor, I think I like this new one more. Here is the original if you want to read it for a nostalgia blast for those who were around in those times.

"The purest green, as stunnin' as the Light,
Downtrodden by my childish feet surpass
Yer ever dry plains, such a gorgeous sight,
A whole new world wit' Hills tha' last an' last.
Ye grew wit' me, as I aged, so did ye,
I loved ye, an' ye blessed me with life
Such I could nay complain, o' ever flee,
A home tha' kept me, like a livin' wife.
I drew blood for ye, an' I kept ye well,
Wars were fought in yer name, I fought, I served
Shoutin' 'Ah-hoom', te honour ye with yell,
An' as I gave te Orcs all they deserved.
I remembered vows thought lost to old lore,
Esarus thar no'Darador, my beloved Arathor."

[Gashuk]

Edited further for anyone potentially enjoying this! 

[Claws]

Nice