Game Poets Society: Volume One Feature - The Next Level

Game Poets Society: Volume One

GotNext presents a new column dedicated to a new gaming indie site.

Article by Game Poets Society (Email)
August 18th 2006, 05:00AM

Extra Life

You, but a
Pale-shelled product of the pantheons.
Made in the deific image, without the deific spark.
Weak skin stretched over an insatiable void for stolen life.
I have grown to overlook that inconsistency you clasp,
The tears that hide your desperate smile,
The supplications for a Life that you will only use to die.
One you were given at conception,
But your guard fell, and your flame died, and your soul cried out for more.

Seek me,
More than you seek the end.
More than you covet the resolution of your quest.
For I am the safeguard to your path.
Pure essence’s essence.
The self-contained explosion of divinity.
The formless grace that is the water to your shell,
Which fills and conforms to your shape, and begins it anew.
I have no life but yours, no form but yours,
And no hope beyond the catalyst to your victory.

"Thank you Mario

The words that escaped his fungus crowned head
Cut a pathway through my hopes
Like a green turtle shell through a field of ripened mushrooms.

All of my efforts to this point have been in vain!
The blood spilt, the fire thrown, for nothing!
Through shadowy pipes; I knew not where they'd take me!
Into the ocean deep; the tentacled fiends I have faced!

All for motives known well throughout the land:
My quest to rescue the Princess, seized from her home,
Clawed away. King Koopa in the scaly flesh.
No one knows why, save for infinite wickedness, he took her.

I would know, were I met by her.
But my arrival is greeted by a hand who, plucking my hopes as a turnip,
Replaces my cheerfulness with emasculating disbelief.
I have mistaken?
I am sent away again?

I've spent years leaping over shroom and beast,
Scourges of the Mushroom Kingdom flattened under my boot.
Every challenger destroyed makes my conscience cry out "They may have families! You create orphans!
Little fire-shooting plant-children begging for food"

They would be the only lives that need be taken,
After raising the victory flag up high on its post,
If I were not met with an ersatz conclusion.
A dumpy diapered servant to the Princess,
Giddy with freedom, yet sneering at my plight,
Revealing I have killed and been killed merely to hear:

"Thank you Mario! But our princess is in another castle!"

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