'Twas the night before last, and all through the city
Not a joke was had, or a comment so witty.
No banners hung from the rooftops with care,
Just murders and theft with lots of despair.
The police were all just hiding at home,
The statues outside with crumbling stone.
Screams and cries of loved ones lost,
The value of lives not given much cost.
When down the street arose such a clatter,
That was shortly followed by footstep patter.
Some music played with a light show that flashed,
Colourful figures with weapons that bashed.
The moonlight made their masks almost glitter,
At the front of the line, a man who looked bitter.
He paused for a moment to survey the land,
A hat on his head and sword in his hand.
A frown to a smile, could melt anyones heart,
His arms open wide, a speech he would start.
"The Circus is here with whistles and bells,
To send all your evil to the deepest of hells!"
"Now, Antic! Now, Frolic! Now, Dapple and Smiler!
On, demons! On, devils! On sprites and defilers!
To the top of the road! To the top of the Mall!
Now smash away! Smash away! Smash away all!"
"To all those criminals both large and small,
We're coming for you - short, average or tall.
So come out, come out! Wherever you are!
Don't try to run... You won't get that far!"
And then there was movement up on the roof,
The clowns below still stood proud and aloof.
An army of men came down from up top,
With a volley of grenades that they did drop.
Dressed for a war from their heads to their feet.
Guns, armour and blades with uniforms neat.
But caught offguard the circus was not.
They had planned for this moment, they hadn't forgot.
A battle ensued, the casualties were high.
The shadows were moving and that's not a lie.
Out of dark portals the demons came.
Black clouds of death, soldiers souls they would claim.
Moments had passed, all but one dead,
Surrounded by the circus, blood on his head.
Their leader faced him, the smile had returned,
A fire in his eye with flames that still burned.
"We kept you alive so you could tell the tale,
That we're back in town and your tactcs fail.
Technology and weapons can't beat the Cirque,
Return to your masters and beware where we lurk!"
The warrior said nothing, he sighed and he turned.
Retreating alone, a lesson he'd learned.
To get his revenge he would have to train,
He had to ge stronger to make them feel pain.
Increasing rage turned on latent power.
A mutant he was and this was his hour.
Marrowstrike was born, a legend had started.
"The Cirque de la Lune will wish they'd departed!"
'Twas the night before last, and all through the city
Not a joke was had, or a comment so witty.
No banners hung from the rooftops with care,
Just murders and theft with lots of despair.
The police were all just hiding at home,
The statues outside with crumbling stone.
Screams and cries of loved ones lost,
The value of lives not given much cost.
When down the street arose such a clatter,
That was shortly followed by footstep patter.
Some music played with a light show that flashed,
Colourful figures with weapons that bashed.
The moonlight made their masks almost glitter,
At the front of the line, a man who looked bitter.
He paused for a moment to survey the land,
A hat on his head and sword in his hand.
A frown to a smile, could melt anyones heart,
His arms open wide, a speech he would start.
"The Circus is here with whistles and bells,
To send all your evil to the deepest of hells!"
"Now, Antic! Now, Frolic! Now, Dapple and Smiler!
On, demons! On, devils! On sprites and defilers!
To the top of the road! To the top of the Mall!
Now smash away! Smash away! Smash away all!"
"To all those criminals both large and small,
We're coming for you - short, average or tall.
So come out, come out! Wherever you are!
Don't try to run... You won't get that far!"
And then there was movement up on the roof,
The clowns below still stood proud and aloof.
An army of men came down from up top,
With a volley of grenades that they did drop.
Dressed for a war from their heads to their feet.
Guns, armour and blades with uniforms neat.
But caught offguard the circus was not.
They had planned for this moment, they hadn't forgot.
A battle ensued, the casualties were high.
The shadows were moving and that's not a lie.
Out of dark portals the demons came.
Black clouds of death, soldiers souls they would claim.
Moments had passed, all but one dead,
Surrounded by the circus, blood on his head.
Their leader faced him, the smile had returned,
A fire in his eye with flames that still burned.
"We kept you alive so you could tell the tale,
That we're back in town and your tactcs fail.
Technology and weapons can't beat the Cirque,
Return to your masters and beware where we lurk!"
The warrior said nothing, he sighed and he turned.
Retreating alone, a lesson he'd learned.
To get his revenge he would have to train,
He had to ge stronger to make them feel pain.
Increasing rage turned on latent power.
A mutant he was and this was his hour.
Marrowstrike was born, a legend had started.
"The Cirque de la Lune will wish they'd departed!"