Mighty Champion

…with all apologies to William Blake 🙂

The Champion

Champion, champion, burning bright

Beneath the dark of dawnless light

No shroud stretched from sea to sea

Could dim your awesome majesty


With peerless skill your blades have kissed

Hapless foes to crimson mist

No battle fought that, in despair,

A foe not cry, “A Champion! There!”


I do declare, the sound of Shing!

Has reached unto each Shire farthing

Where hobbits out in search of pies

‘Stead look for lightning in the skies!

It’s not that I’m jealous. I promise, not really!

But the cries in the World grow increasingly silly!

One I heard while in Bree’s skirmish camps?

“Strolling the Shire, one of six, NEED CHAMPS!”

Is there aught to do, for the rest of the classes?

While we look on, as we sit on our… goodness me!

Is, truly, this where the gods their time spend?

You’re OP enough. Why not just ascend?

The day will come when the war is over

And we can climb down from the Champion’s shoulder

The Fourth Age will be the Age of Man

This is the Age of the Champion

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