Don't Fear the Reaper
Buck Roger
Dio tells us that we all come from sand, and to sand we shall return. Many profess their belief in his words, but do they truly embrace them? Dio Brando transcended the game, as do a select few other icons of eRepublik history. The rest of us are merely entrapped in the game mechanics, working without knowing where we are going and why we are going there.
Sometimes the best move is to make no move at all. This feint can catch your enemies unawares, as they have nothing to counter. For some shadow boxers itching at their buttons, this means they have nothing at all.
I want to die, here in the sands of Pakistan, to taste the glory of Dio in all his greatness. Yes, you will see me again... when, I don't know.
Thanatopsis —William Cullen Bryant
To him who in the love of Nature holds
Communion with her visible forms, she speaks
A various language; for his gayer hours
She has a voice of gladness, and a smile
And eloquence of beauty, and she glides
Into his darker musings, with a mild
And healing sympathy, that steals away
Their sharpness, ere he is aware. When thoughts
Of the last bitter hour come like a blight
Over thy spirit, and sad images
Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall,
And breathless darkness, and the narrow house,
Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart,—
Go forth, under the open sky, and list
To Nature's teachings, while from all around—
Earth and her waters, and the depths of air—
Comes a still voice:—Yet a few days, and thee
The all-beholding sun shall see no more
In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground,
Where thy pale form was laid, with many tears,
Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist
Thy image. Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim
Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again,
And, lost each human trace, surrendering up
Thine individual being, shalt thou go
To mix for ever with the elements,
To be a brother to the insensible rock
And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain
Turns with his share, and treads upon. The oak
Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mould.
Yet not to thine eternal resting-place
Shalt thou retire alone—nor couldst thou wish
Couch more magnificient. Thou shalt lie down
With patriarchs of the infant world—with kings,
The powerful of the earth—the wise, the good,
Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past,
All in one mighty sepulchre. The hills
Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun,—the vales
Stretching in pensive quietness between;
The venerable woods—rivers that move
In majesty, and the complaining brooks
That make the meadow green; and, poured round all,
Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste,—
Are but the solemn decorations all
Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun,
The planets, all the infinite host of heaven,
Are shining on the sad abodes of death,
Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread
The globe are but a handful to the tribes
That slumber in its bosom. Take the wings
Of morning, pierce the Barcan wilderness,
Or lose thyself in the continuous woods
Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound,
Save his own dashings—yet the dead are there:
And millions in those solitudes, since first
The flight of years began, have laid them down
In their last sleep—the dead reign there alone!
So shalt thou rest, and what if thou withdraw
In silence from the living, and no friend
Take note of thy departure? All that breathe
Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh
When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care
Plod on, and each one as before will chase
His favorite phantom; yet all these shall leave
Their mirth and their employments, and shall come
And make their bed with thee. As the long train
Of ages glide away, the sons of men—
The youth in life's green spring, and he who goes
In the full strength of years, matron and maid,
And the sweet babe, and the gray-headed man—
Shall one by one be gathered to thy side,
By those, who in their turn shall follow them.
So live that when thy summons comes to join
The innumerable caravan that moves
To that mysterious realm, where each shall take
His chamber in the silent halls of death,
Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night,
Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
Comments
~hyuu~
Good luck Buck. We will wait for your return
Thus end another story of this game, too many books being burned imo 😑
I'm tired of chasing after headless chickens, too.
GOOD NIGHT SWEET PRINCE!
Oh!
and,
This post needs more cowbell.
Go enjoy RL.
Later... 😕
Vaya con Dio
o7
🙁
enjoy RL dude
good luck
“I am ready to meet my Maker. Whether my Maker is prepared for the ordeal of meeting me is another matter.”
Vaya con Dio, Buck
O7
;_;
This tiny world grows a little smaller and darker without you.
Thank you for all the guidance and support you've given so freely to so many. I hope I live to see your return, if not, I'll see you when I'm sand.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SXKWb84bChg" target="_blank">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SXKWb84bC[..]bChg
Be blessed.
con Dio
don't fear me I'm friendly at times too...
is this cuz your other article got deleted? Buck we'll miss you!
I hope you+re not seriously considering leaving and this is some of that Dio shit I don't understand.
I call dibs on new religion saying u are one of the prophets of Dio
/v/oted!
good night Buck.
@Isuss
You need quite modest brain and a bit of time to understand the thought of DIO...
Buck Roger as prophet of Dio?
Also Thanatopsis is a great poem.
Good luck, Buck! o7
no Buck ........ dont die ................ "rage, rage against the dying of the light" (Dylan Thomas)
This saddens me Buck, don't let Admin get you down. good luck in RL!
you will be missed... enjoy rl as much as you can 🙂
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
★★★★★★★★DIO★★★....
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
Later dude!
NOT VOTED
Cheers bro, hang around on IRC. o7
heya
it`s a shame but it`s true
vote
quote''Sometimes the best move is to make no move at all. This feint can catch your enemies unawares, as they have nothing to counter''
Buck my friend, is that a sequel of Sun Tzus'''The Art of War'', if it is so.. we will be waiting for more of your genuine wisdom..someday..
Good Luck man, wherever you are!
fr
BUCK,meta tin Ellada...to xaos!
praise the Dios 😃
we enjoyed your articles... i hope you will return someday 🙂
Don't give it up Buck.
Et tu, Bucke?
important players need to stop leaving.
Lots of existentialism in the air these days. Nonetheless:
In I Corinthians 15:54-57, St. Paul writes:
So when this corruptible has put on incorruption, and this mortal has put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written:
Death is swallowed up in victory.[a]
O Death, where is your sting?
O Hades, where is your victory?[c]
The sting of death is sin, and the strength of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.
[a] Isaiah 25:8
He will swallow up death forever,
And the Lord GOD will wipe away tears from all faces;
The rebuke of His people
He will take away from all the earth;
For the LORD has spoken.
Hosea 13:14
I will ransom them from the power of the grave;
I will redeem them from death.
O Death, I will be your plagues!
O Grave, I will be your destruction!
Pity is hidden from My eyes.
I will be waiting 😉
[removed]
You will be missed.
Vada con Dio
Vaya con Dio o7
omg! not another big dog leaving. what the hell is going on in this game!!!!
Red comment is red.
Bye laddie
Wow! Sounds a lot like this guy: http://www.erepublik.com/en/newspaper/delta-gamma-ratings-221723/1" target="_blank">http://www.erepublik.com/en/newspaper/de[..]723/1
Don't let them get you down Buck.