The LJ-Drama Lament
At 4am the spirits rise,
Of posts exhumed from endless depths.
All drama, pain and tear-filled eyes,
Unleashed, they haunt the Internets.
They roam the Internets, undead,
Revived, reviled, revolving 'round
Their summoner's need to get laid,
Or pain and angst which know no bounds.
Batrachian ghouls whose mere touch dazes,
And lulz lulls you into waking-sleep -
(When H.P. used those very phrases,
They somehow seemed to sound so deep.)
And on the posts these words appear:
"Look at my works, friends, and comment!
Oh, don't you love me? Are you here?"
Say Drama-keens in deep lament.
Then LJ-friends will earn their keep:
"We're here for you!" - that old refrain.
(Yes, LJ-woods are dark and deep,
Once in, you'll never live leave again.)
Come morning, newly-sobered hands,
Those posts to friends-locked death condemn;
Shall doom those posts to lock and die;
Because, my friends, in LJ-lands,
Nobody really gives a damn.
No one can really hear you cry.
(This has started as a comment to a locked post, which I threatened to make into a full-scale horror-poem, and though it hasn't really reached its full glorious potential - oh, come on, this is the internet, what did you expect to find here, Poe?
And my apologies to the memory of Lovecraft, Shelley, Frost and any other poet/cultural icon whose work I've knowingly or unknowingly abused in this post.)
And this reminds me that
shiffer hasn't linked to
The Encyclopædia Dramatica for a while, so there.
_____
Edit: And
highlydubious's
chainsaw version for The Raven.