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Post by S'ewing S'cubie on Aug 6, 2004 4:18:05 GMT -5
the Crush that drowns me you see centers around a Storyteller of sorts his eyes convey Lessons that Never Leave Me Touched in so many ways i fear he'll Never Leave Me its a Tough Love you see Doomed to Spiral the Phases this man conveys so with Passion its no Surprise im Smashed its not Faith,Hope and Trick - ery hes the Shadow that Forever leads me to this Potential Clever Fredspuffie Using titles enoughie Blank versing her way through the seasons I'm deeply impressedie and interested-ie 'Cause you've given me so many reasons.
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Post by S'ewing S'cubie on Aug 6, 2004 4:40:04 GMT -5
Diane, it was cool to see my style repeated Willow indeed was important and needed. But there is one more that needs noticing here He, too, was important and there every year.Season One saw him meet Buffy, and two of a friend Season Two saw him find love, with a tragic, cruel end Season Three saw him test her, and take all her strength Season Four saw him flounder, and drink at great length Season Five saw a renewal, and lost her to a leap Season Six saw him go and come back again, the World to keep. Season Seven saw him bring Potentials, some paid the price. The next year, new Council, he's the boss, must be nice. Giles has been through a number of things. With passion, direction, and sometimes he sings. With Willow the Spirit, and Xander the Heart, With Giles' knowledge, they'll know where to start. Guess it's time that she whose name Gave everything, even S'cubies their fame One last time I'll borrow your form and your heart To honor a lady, our source and our start!Season One she was the Master's death knell Season Two she sent her true love to Hell Season Three she slew the Mayor Ascended Season Four Adam died when she blended Season Five to stop Glory, she died Season Six's Trio her patience tried Season Seven the First Evil she beat So a well earned rest is her treat. Giles, her mind; Xander, Heart; Willow, spirit inspired But Buffy, the Hand, worked hardest of all and now rests, Slayer retired.
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Post by fredspuffie on Aug 6, 2004 8:00:53 GMT -5
Out- of mind,Out -of sight Out- of my mind For--ever A-mends A-nne my dear A-ngel
A--new man i am on a lover's-- Walk
B-ecoming because I only have eyes for you T-he gift that touched me was of some C-onsequences H- omecoming its not
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Post by fredspuffed on Aug 6, 2004 18:02:28 GMT -5
I Fall to Pieces Expecting im at a Dead End of sorts i suppose it is The Price of A New World and That Vision Thing that leads me in a sweet Lollaby Waiting in the Wings for Tomorrow but Deep Down its Why We Fight to
Not Fade Away
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Post by Barb on Aug 8, 2004 2:06:28 GMT -5
Guess it's time that she whose name Gave everything, even S'cubies their fame One last time I'll borrow your form and your heart To honor a lady, our source and our start!Season One she was the Master's death knell Season Two she sent her true love to Hell Season Three she slew the Mayor Ascended Season Four Adam died when she blended Season Five to stop Glory, she died Season Six's Trio her patience tried Season Seven the First Evil she beat So a well earned rest is her treat. Giles, her mind; Xander, Heart; Willow, spirit inspired But Buffy, the Hand, worked hardest of all and now rests, Slayer retired. Another one calls me to make her a rhyme She was not with them when they began their time She'll have a different style in this game And though she is Slayer, she isn't the same.She blew into Sunnydale in Season 3 Her watcher was killed and she barely got free In her life she feels that there's no one to trust 'Cept herself and her slaying, those vampires to dust. One night she had Xander, and one night she killed By accident, true, but denial she willed. Because she believed herself bad after that The mayor was able to get her to rat. Faith found a father figure, its strange, but its true She did what he wanted not matter what to do She tried to seduce the vampire with a soul He became as Angelus, though it was a role She shot him one night with a poison tipped shaft Missing his heart, within her she laughed. The only thing that would save him was her Or the blonde other Slayer, their blood was the cure. They fought and they fought, and they fought once again Then Buffy impaled her with her knife in the end. She fell from the rooftop and onto a truck She fell in a coma. Didn’t die, though, what luck! Eight months she slept, her dreams often scary She finally woke up and did not tarry A gift that was left by the “father” she missed Helped when she met up with Buffy, who’s pissed. For several days time the bodies they wore Were not of their own, and things wrong galore. But while Faith was driving inside Buffy’s skin She started to change herself there from within When they went back to their bodies there Faith disappeared from Sunnydale fair On to LA where she met with the one Who’d make her assassin and a profitable one. She had to dust Angel; that was the thing To help in her secret desire, he would bring An end to the hell that her conscience brought forth He saw beyond that and what she’d be worth. But first she would try to get him “in the game” By hitting and taking his friends that she’d blame Wesley was tortured, cut, beaten, and hurt When finally loose it’s no wonder he’s curt. Finally Faith took the matter in hand She turned herself in, and went without demand And Angel would visit her, and they would tease Each other and not really think of release Several years later, Wes came to the glass Surprising her much since she tortured his ass. Her help was much needed; Angel’s soul had been lost She’s determined she’ll help him whatever the cost. After some work of which some things entailed Like drugging, getting bitten, and minds getting sailed Willow got Angel his soul back once more Faith didn’t let Connor kill Angel on the floor. When that was done Willow and she went on back To Sunnydale and the Potential Pack The tension between she and Buffy remained Especially when after Xander got maimed. Buffy, then general, determined to go back No one else wanted to since the previous attack Faith suggested not going back to that place Buffy wouldn’t hear of it, and left in bad grace. While Buffy was gone, Faith was leader and good And had an interesting chat with the First…and Wood. Buffy returned, and Faith gave her back the reins Since Buffy had a Scythe, and Faith, injury pains. The day the Final Battle of Sunnydale dawned Faith and the Potentials, about to have a bond. By the time that the battle was over and done All the Potentials were Slayers; every one. Buffy and Faith used to be much alone Dusting and fighting, those skills to hone Now they have company, much help in their fight Things are looking somehow much safer at night.
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Post by S'ewing S'cubie on Aug 8, 2004 19:03:02 GMT -5
Another one calls me to make her a rhyme She was not with them when they began their time She'll have a different style in this game And though she is Slayer, she isn't the same.She blew into Sunnydale in Season 3 Her watcher was killed and she barely got free In her life she feels that there's no one to trust 'Cept herself and her slaying, those vampires to dust. One night she had Xander, and one night she killed By accident, true, but denial she willed. Because she believed herself bad after that The mayor was able to get her to rat. Faith found a father figure, its strange, but its true She did what he wanted not matter what to do She tried to seduce the vampire with a soul He became as Angelus, though it was a role She shot him one night with a poison tipped shaft Missing his heart, within her she laughed. The only thing that would save him was her Or the blonde other Slayer, their blood was the cure. They fought and they fought, and they fought once again Then Buffy impaled her with her knife in the end. She fell from the rooftop and onto a truck She fell in a coma. Didn’t die, though, what luck! Eight months she slept, her dreams often scary She finally woke up and did not tarry A gift that was left by the “father” she missed Helped when she met up with Buffy, who’s pissed. For several days time the bodies they wore Were not of their own, and things wrong galore. But while Faith was driving inside Buffy’s skin She started to change herself there from within When they went back to their bodies there Faith disappeared from Sunnydale fair On to LA where she met with the one Who’d make her assassin and a profitable one. She had to dust Angel; that was the thing To help in her secret desire, he would bring An end to the hell that her conscience brought forth He saw beyond that and what she’d be worth. But first she would try to get him “in the game” By hitting and taking his friends that she’d blame Wesley was tortured, cut, beaten, and hurt When finally loose it’s no wonder he’s curt. Finally Faith took the matter in hand She turned herself in, and went without demand And Angel would visit her, and they would tease Each other and not really think of release Several years later, Wes came to the glass Surprising her much since she tortured his ass. Her help was much needed; Angel’s soul had been lost She’s determined she’ll help him whatever the cost. After some work of which some things entailed Like drugging, getting bitten, and minds getting sailed Willow got Angel his soul back once more Faith didn’t let Connor kill Angel on the floor. When that was done Willow and she went on back To Sunnydale and the Potential Pack The tension between she and Buffy remained Especially when after Xander got maimed. Buffy, then general, determined to go back No one else wanted to since the previous attack Faith suggested not going back to that place Buffy wouldn’t hear of it, and left in bad grace. While Buffy was gone, Faith was leader and good And had an interesting chat with the First…and Wood. Buffy returned, and Faith gave her back the reins Since Buffy had a Scythe, and Faith, injury pains. The day the Final Battle of Sunnydale dawned Faith and the Potentials, about to have a bond. By the time that the battle was over and done All the Potentials were Slayers; every one. Buffy and Faith used to be much alone Dusting and fighting, those skills to hone Now they have company, much help in their fight Things are looking somehow much safer at night. If Faith is the subject I'm not at a loss She didn't do badly when she was the boss She fights like a whirlwind, makes it look like a dance A first rate Slayer if she'd had half a chance Her story's a sad one there is no doubt We know no help came when she was about While Buffy had Joyce, Giles and her friends Faith had no one to focus her ends It isn't a wonder that she went astray A Slayer gone rogue can't be held at bay Living as Buffy left Faith's soul a-craving And Angel alone knew that she was worth saving Though it took many years leaving Faith jail-bound She was ready to go when Wesley came 'round She answered the call and gave prison a pass with a will-aimed leap through security glass She faced down the demon Angelus' goad and poisoned his poison with her own blood. and having survived Los Angelus' worst She then went to Sunnydale to help fight the First So Faith has earned her freedom at last And the Sunnydale survivors forgive her past I hope that she someday finds legal pardon And someone who knows just how far she has come.
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Post by Kate (K8) on Aug 10, 2004 5:23:11 GMT -5
To the poet s’cubies, Hi Thought I’d give Fredspuffie’s method a try Faith is a topic of interest I see So here is a humble attempt at poetry
Faith, The Girl In Question Restless when not slaying The Life of the Party She is Wild At Heart A ticking Time Bomb Lacking Blood Ties Far from Home
There is a lot more I did write But stop for lunch now I might
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Post by S'ewing S'cubie on Aug 10, 2004 15:59:31 GMT -5
To the poet s’cubies, Hi Thought I’d give Fredspuffie’s method a try Faith is a topic of interest I see So here is a humble attempt at poetry Faith, The Girl In Question Restless when not slaying The Life of the Party She is Wild At Heart A ticking Time Bomb Lacking Blood Ties Far from Home There is a lot more I did write But stop for lunch now I might K8, not L8 Never makes us w8 we will rise to the b8 her poems we don't h8, In fact, we highly r8! With the Scubies, a perfect m8 We believe it must be f8 and will never give her the g8 She's pure gold and not pl8 We're so glad that we have K8!
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Post by Kate (K8) on Aug 11, 2004 23:50:27 GMT -5
K8, not L8 Never makes us w8 we will rise to the b8 her poems we don't h8, In fact, we highly r8! With the Scubies, a perfect m8 We believe it must be f8 and will never give her the g8 She's pure gold and not pl8 We're so glad that we have K8! ;D Hee Hee! A Poem ‘bout me! To Diane Thank You! And here’s part two: Her home was a Room - With A View and little else Then her violence the major did groom Her friendships DoomedShe forgot Loyalty to Buff After Life and Living ConditionsGot less than Tough Love her, did the strange ProviderGave her Just RewardsAnd many a GiftOf pretty dresses and fancy swords Paid for by Blood MoneyRegarding your first line Maybe just a little this time
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Post by fredspuffed on Aug 13, 2004 6:10:00 GMT -5
;D Hee Hee! A Poem ‘bout me! To Diane Thank You! And here’s part two: Her home was a Room - With A View and little else Then her violence the major did groom Her friendships DoomedShe forgot Loyalty to Buff After Life and Living ConditionsGot less than Tough Love her, did the strange ProviderGave her Just RewardsAnd many a GiftOf pretty dresses and fancy swords Paid for by Blood MoneyRegarding your first line Maybe just a little this time k8 your great I can't think of nothing as of late boy I know thats lame I think you sorta beat me at this game that poem was great! ;D
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Post by Barb on Aug 15, 2004 2:34:01 GMT -5
If Faith is the subject I'm not at a loss She didn't do badly when she was the boss She fights like a whirlwind, makes it look like a dance A first rate Slayer if she'd had half a chance Her story's a sad one there is no doubt We know no help came when she was about While Buffy had Joyce, Giles and her friends Faith had no one to focus her ends It isn't a wonder that she went astray A Slayer gone rogue can't be held at bay Living as Buffy left Faith's soul a-craving And Angel alone knew that she was worth saving Though it took many years leaving Faith jail-bound She was ready to go when Wesley came 'round She answered the call and gave prison a pass with a will-aimed leap through security glass She faced down the demon Angelus' goad and poisoned his poison with her own blood. and having survived Los Angelus' worst She then went to Sunnydale to help fight the First So Faith has earned her freedom at last And the Sunnydale survivors forgive her past I hope that she someday finds legal pardon And someone who knows just how far she has come. Hey there Diane, it's been a long time Things would come up, hard to do rhyme I can't get on either, as often as I want I come around here like a ghost in a haunt
I see there are others who cleverly verse K8 and fredspuffed, good rhymes that aren't terse Forgive me my absence, I'll think something up Could be 'bout vamps and their quest for the cup. Spike was brought back like a ghost in LA Grandchilde of Angel, night was his day Not until Harmony opened a box Did he become solid, and hard like a rock Hearing about the Shanshu from dear Fred He thought maybe it was about him instead Angel would not believe that it's so And Sirk told them both of a place they should go Whichever would drink of the cup of Torment Would prove to be he that the prophecy meant Spike took a car, arriving there first Thought he would do it, slaking his thirst Angel arrived, and much battle ensued Picked at each other like men come unglued Issues came out and they argued a lot Angel's defeat gave our Spike guy a shot Drinking the stuff Spike then came to see It wasn't just what Sirk had claimed it to be Our defeated vamps then returned to LA Neither of them quite knew what to say Angel began to mire in his self-doubt Of whom the Shanshu was really about Eve wandered home where her lover awaited And Lindsey was trying to mess what was fated. ({{Diane}} Sorry it's been so long.)
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Post by S'ewing S'cubie on Aug 16, 2004 12:35:45 GMT -5
Deepest sorrow brings my sighs for those whose works I plaigerize For this time my rhyming eyes have brought a masterpiece so low Taking his sad horror lightly Hoping that the dead forgive me This time with deep apology, I wreak disaster upon Poe
THE RAVEN?
Once upon a evening dreary, while I pondered, deeply teary Over many a quaint and curious program that I found a bore 'Pon my front door came a flying, as of something desperately trying, As of someone desperately trying, trying my rapt attention there to score " 'Tis reality tv," I muttered, "'trying my ratings point to score; Only this, and nothing more."
Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak September, And each separate network member hoped its dismal shows would score. Eagerly I wished them ended; Off their blandishments I fended As tv become a sorrow, sorrow for that lost before. For those rare and radiant programs that I shall not name ere more, Nameless here forevermore.
Sadly missed I the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each plot twist Thrilling me---filling me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, I stood repeating, to my heart's incessent beating "Cease your banal entreating, whining for a dollar more, It's too late, you network sponsor, to bring your product to the fore. From my wallet, nothing more."
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, "Sir," said I, "or madam, truly your efforts are a bore; But I rather would be napping, than to listen to your prattling, And so cease your mindless tapping, tapping at my cerebrum floor, Naught you say I want to hear.” And I heaved my tv set out the door;--- Darkness there, and nothing more.
Into the darkness I stood peering. Long I stood there, wondering, fearing Doubting, dreaming dreams only Whedon ever dared to dream before; But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token, And I, hoping, dared not speak the whispered words, No More? This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the words, "No More!" Merely this, and nothing more.
Back into my bedroom turning, all my soul within me burning, Then at my door I heard a tapping, so much louder than before, "Surely," said I, "surely, no network executive would be coming to my door. Let me see, then, what the treat is, and this mystery explore. Let my heart be still a moment, and this mystery explore. Must be the wind, and nothing more.’"
Open here I flung the screen, when, with feathers all a-sheen, In there stepped a rappin’ raven, of the tv days of yore. On his head a gimme cap bore he; and a sponsor’s sweatshirt wore he; And with mien of lord or lady, where had stood the set before. Perched upon an empty stand, just before my bedroom door, Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
By this corporate bird beguiled, though I missed my shows, I smiled, By the silly, stupid costume that was upon its body worn, "Though thy plumage clearly was hock'd, thou art certainly no peacock, Prefer I the ghastly, grim and ancient raven celebrated by hist’ry’s lore. Tell me, raven, when I may, tell me when will come the day Angel will return from upon the network floor." Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."
And the raven, sitting lonely on that tv stand, spoke only That one word, as if his soul in that utterance did outpour. Nothing further did he mutter; not a feather did he flutter; Till I scarcely more than stuttered, "Other shows returned before; Maybe UPN will take him, as they did Buffy once before." Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."
But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and stand and door; Then, into the vinyl sinking, I betook myself to drinking, Dreaming of the shows I lost; Firefly, Angel and Buffy toss'd -- Would I e’er again enjoy the like of television of yore Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."
So I sat no syllable expressing, for this thought was too depressing Still the fowl’s fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core; This and more I sat divining, my head raised and feet reclining On the LazEBoy recliner that the set once gloated o'er, But in whose vinyl lining with the lamplight gloating o'er I could relax, ah, nevermore! Then, methought, the air grew denser, from the forgotten frozen pizza That was hidden deep within my oven’s darkest core. "Wretch," I cried, "I don’t believe thee – though corporate suits have sent thee ---there will come again a time when tv’s worth what came before! I will not forget the lesson though you bathe me in hot Wesson! I will remember Joss’s Lesson that he’s taught us thrice before" Quoth the raven, "Nevermore!"
And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the dusty tv stand just outside my bedroom door; And although he has not moved, yet to his rhythm I am grooved. In the dimly glowing lamplight streaming, casting shadows on the floor; As the newest tv season once more lacks a mote of reason, Shall it entertain me? Quoth the raven, Nevermore!
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Post by Sara on Aug 23, 2004 13:13:02 GMT -5
With apologies to Ernest Thayer...
The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudders any day; The work was hard, the days were hot, and a pittance was their pay; There was not much to celebrate, even less to cheer, They spent most nights in quiet gloom, chugging down their beer.
A beaten few gave up all hope--in deep despair they fell. The rest remembered one great deed to get them through their hell. The man called Jayne, he saw their plight and dared to make a stand. His deeds they now all sang of across this wretched land. Jayne emptied out the coffers filled by Mudders' toil and pain, Then shared the wealth with his people sad; so went the song's refrain. For this they loved their hero, and looked on him with awe, And with a statue honored him in defiance of the law.
But mighty Jayne was seen no more since that momentous day, Until the night a boy stopped short when a stranger looked his way. And when the folk had gathered 'round to see this person new, They realized, every one of them, the boy had spoken true.
Then from five thousand throats and more there rose a lusty yell, It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell, It knocked upon the mountain and recoiled upon the flat, For Jayne, mighty Jayne, had returned to them at last.
There was ease in Jayne's manner as he stepped into the place; There was pride in Jayne's bearing and a smile on Jayne's face, And when, responding to the cheers, he gladly raised his glass, No stranger in the croud could doubt `twas Jayne returned at last.
Ten thousand eyes were on him as drank his whiskey down; Five thousand hands applauded as toasted all the town. Then, while the Mudders sang and drank throughout the night, Jayne basked in all the glory that was surely his by right.
The next day in the Canton square he addressed the gathered throng, He claimed unsureness of his words and declined to speak for long. "I want to thank you all for being here, and for thinking so much of me..." Then spoke to them of their lot in life and of their tenacity. From within the gathered Mudders there went up a muffled roar, A shotgun blast broke through the air ere Jayne could speak some more. A battered man before them stood, bedraggled and in pain. He said he had a piece to speak about the man called Jayne.
I know this man quite well, said he. "We used to work together, he and I." He claimed they two the money stole and headed for the sky. But when things went wrong Jayne turned on him, threw his partner from the ship, And t'was not Jayne's will that through his hands he let the money slip.
"Fraud," cried the maddened thousands, and the echo answered "Fraud," But one good look at Jayne Cobb's face, and the multitude was awed. No reply was written there, no denial of this crime. He showed no regret for his chosen acts, even after all this time.
But this was not enough for Stitch, and with his gun took aim Intending to rid the entire 'verse of the man called Jayne. Then a Mudder jumped into harm's way to save Jayne from his fate, He took the blast full in the chest, and died there on that date.
The pride was gone from Jayne Cobb's face; his eyes were tinged with woe; He threw with cruel violence his knife right at his foe. And then he looked out at the crowd, said he's not the hero they see, And said no one is like that now--"there's just people like me."
Oh! somewhere in this favored 'verse the sun is shining bright; The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light. And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout; But there is no joy in Canton -- mighty Jayne has been found out.
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Post by Barb on Aug 25, 2004 17:27:43 GMT -5
Back by demand, I have a new rhyme About a young man, cut down in his prime Slowly, I creep back into the thread With this little rhyme that appeared in my head.
There once was a man, Liam his name And Galway was where he called home. He fought with his father, his spirit to tame But Liam would have none, he wanted to roam.
One night at a tavern, he got in a brawl Drawing attention from she who would take Liam from home and from life and from all. She wanted him, knowing that he was a rake.
"I could show you," said she of the life she led "Close your eyes," said she, then took his life When he awoke, he was buried with the dead And Darla was waiting for him to join her in strife.
He crawled out of the dirt, what he was, not knowing He hungered for something, he didn't know what His first kill made, and red blood was flowing Darla was proud, when he filled his gut.
Time had passed, and Liam was no more A killer, an artist, he tortured for fun With Darla he travelled, revelling in gore Angelus arose, and he would love none.
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Post by S'ewing S'cubie on Aug 27, 2004 7:05:34 GMT -5
Back by demand, I have a new rhyme About a young man, cut down in his prime Slowly, I creep back into the thread With this little rhyme that appeared in my head.There once was a man, Liam his name And Galway was where he called home. He fought with his father, his spirit to tame But Liam would have none, he wanted to roam. One night at a tavern, he got in a brawl Drawing attention from she who would take Liam from home and from life and from all. She wanted him, knowing that he was a rake. "I could show you," said she of the life she led "Close your eyes," said she, then took his life When he awoke, he was buried with the dead And Darla was waiting for him to join her in strife. He crawled out of the dirt, what he was, not knowing He hungered for something, he didn't know what His first kill made, and red blood was flowing Darla was proud, when he filled his gut. Time had passed, and Liam was no more A killer, an artist, he tortured for fun With Darla he travelled, revelling in gore Angelus arose, and he would love none. Welcome back fellow poet I missed you Don't you know it?FORGOTTEN SLAYERShe’d never known a friend or a loving parent’s kiss She’d never known the outside world so the world she couldn’t miss She’d never known another life besides her fighting fists So how could anyone expect so much from that young miss? The Council was the Master The Council was the Lord The Council was the reigning source She took the Council’s word She came to Sunnydale in secrecy's deepest fold She saw another like herself with friends and home to hold She longed within herself to have these treasures old She only showed the outside world a façade that was cold But The Council was the Master The Council was the Lord The Council was the reigning source She took the Council’s word She’d never touched another soul she told them in a breath Her fellow Slayer taught her what it was to have a hearth She touched her inner fire and learned what she was worth And it was protecting Buffy’s friends that Kendra met her death
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