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Forums > Home› Feedback› Klingon Discussion

I remind you what we fight for!

SystemSystem Member, NoReporting Posts: 178,019 Arc User
edited February 2012 in Klingon Discussion
Be this your Oath to Empire!

Beneath the stars that drip with blood
I stand, defiant and alone.
I am here my Emperor. Call on me, I beg of thee
I was nothing before this day and nothing
shall I remain if I cannot serve thee now.

Pain and suffering are my just rewards.
Do with me as serves thee best.
It matters not that I survive,
only that which I Defend.

Forfeit of life, but not of honor,
in thy cause, death at last is welcome.
I am here, My Emperor, ready at last
to be an instrument of thy will.

Ready to obey and die.
Post edited by Unknown User on

Comments

  • Archived PostArchived Post Member Posts: 2,264,498 Arc User
    edited February 2012
    Qa'pla!! Yay! Qa'pla!!
  • Archived PostArchived Post Member Posts: 2,264,498 Arc User
    edited February 2012
    Roach wrote: »
    Qa'pla!! Yay! Qa'pla!!

    Yeah ;) What Roach said!
  • Archived PostArchived Post Member Posts: 2,264,498 Arc User
    edited February 2012
    Roachie without fail you bring a smile to an old Klingon!
  • Archived PostArchived Post Member Posts: 2,264,498 Arc User
    edited February 2012
    Meh, needs to rhyme.
  • Archived PostArchived Post Member Posts: 2,264,498 Arc User
    edited February 2012
    Nausicaans like cash.
    Point us at who you want dead.
    Sorry, no refunds.
  • Archived PostArchived Post Member Posts: 2,264,498 Arc User
    edited February 2012
    A peom written by

    Sir Thomas Wyatt (1503? - 1542)

    The Lover Compareth His State to a Shippe in Perilous Storme Tossed on the Sea

    My galy charged with forgetfulnes
    Thorrough sharpe sees in wynter nyghtes doeth pas
    Twene Rock and Rock; and eke myn ennemy, Alas,
    That is my lorde, sterith with cruelnes;
    And every owre a thought in redines,
    As tho that deth were light in suche a case.
    An endless wynd doeth tere the sayll apase
    Of forced sightes and trusty ferefulnes.
    A rayn of teris, a clowde of derk disdain,
    Hath done the wered cordes great hinderaunce;
    Wrethed with errour and eke with ignoraunce.
    The starres be hid that led me to this pain;
    Drowned is reason that should me consort,
    And I remain dispering of the port
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