Seriously, it is. Groggy groggy groggy groggy. Eventually it degenerates into weird animalistic noises, except that no animal ever sounded that stupid. Except for maybe the frog. To any frogs reading this: RIBBIT SOUNDS STUPID. ALSO, YOU SUCK AND TASTE LIKE CHICKEN. EXCEPT A LITTLE MORE RUBBERY. YOU TASTE LIKE WHAT I IMAGINE RUBBER CHICKENS WOULD TASTE LIKE. AND YOU'RE NOT NEARLY AS FUN TO HIT PEOPLE WITH.
I'm a little sick today, which is why this blog post is so early in the day. Nothing major, just sore throat, a headache, and some grogginess.
I have discovered, over the years, that the only part of my writing that improves as grogginess does, is my lyricality, especially when I try poems. So I figure I might as well give it a shot and entertain you all.
This is not in iambic pentameter because iambic pentameter is boring mostly. I don't know exactly what the meter of this actually is, but it's pulsating in time to my headache.
Come to me and bring your spears!
Bring your sons and bring your fears.
We shall ride in fog and night.
We shall ride with fierce delight.
Ride through hill and mount and town
Ride as our fell horns do sound.
Sing of us, if you must sing.
And let the Wild Hunt begin.
I tried to read that all the way through but I started coughing halfway through. It sounded fine in my head though.
I'm not even sure if there's a name for that meter. I want to say something about dactyls.
But yeah. I'm going to go take a nap now.
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