I have fallen in love with Minecraft.
Me, head-over-heels for a game with no story. No character development. No stunning character designs. None of the things that normally attract me to a game. And yet, somehow, it’s managed to woo me, leaving me swanning about like a sixteen-year old girl. I don’t understand. How could this happen? To me, of all people, the avowed cynic, the skeptic, the first with a crushing comment or cruel word?
There’s nothing else for it, but to write poetry. Love poetry. Horrible, horrible purple prose declaring my love of Minecraft. Okay, I’m not very good at poetry. But when one is in love, one must write poetry. To do otherwise would be to deny one’s love, and that’s like not being in love at all.
Ode to Sunrise
It’s not morning until something is on fire
–ancient Minecraft Proverb
Sunrise with thy glorious gradients,
promise us of the sunblock’s radiance.
reds merging from the dark purple of night,
I watch it rise, and prepare to take flight.
I was exploring far when night did fall,
no weapons had I at my beck and call.
A torch, a compass, cuttings from a tree,
these were the tools available to me.
Digdig, digdig, there was no other choice,
Unless by my own petard I wanted to be hoist.
I had sanctum on the side of the hill,
but for one block I forgot to refill.
Sounds of destruction came from all around!
The spider’s slurp, the creeper’s fsss abound
A hideous groan, and then! Twang! Twang! Twang!
My sanctum was breached, and I would be claimed.
When o’er the horizon, a golden line
peeped, and covered the land with its soft shine.
My enemy stopped his deadly assault
I watched until the flaming corpse did halt.
I ran away fast, I ran away strong,
Never did the trip to my base seem so long!
But in the end, with the sun hanging high,
I reach it safely, and let out a sigh.
Sunset with thy glorious gradients,
remind why we need daytime’s radiance.
Reds merging into the dark purple of night,
I watch it set, and prepare to fight.