Have DnD Sestina
When I first learned how to attack,
they handed me five dice to roll.
It seemed even a fly would leave me defeated
then. Many rulebooks creased with wrinkles;
“I’m finally ready now!” I say,
but it’s still just a level one struggle.
And then there were times I struggle-
d to even remember my base attack
bonus. Every few minutes I’d still say,
“Tell me again, which dice do I roll?”
My character sheet gained fresh wrinkles
when no one in the party was defeated.
Every session, we’d be inevitably defeated.
Now it’s the players and DM who struggle
to smooth the conversation’s wrinkles;
technical arguments mixed with personal attack-
s. Every time there’s a dice roll
we didn’t expect, “What now!?” we say.
“You need a seventeen or higher” he say-
s. Fourteen. My fortitude save largely defeated;
failing by my own unlucky roll.
My character is now in a struggle
to stay alive. So I fight a small heart-attack.
This game induces premature wrinkles…
It’s no time for planning wrinkles;
we’ve advanced now. “This is it!” I say.
Level twenty, with nearly double the attack;
the enemies who use to leave us defeated
are no longer worth the struggle.
In the final fight I cast my first roll.
Then an abysmal dice roll
My scrunched face has wrinkles
When I stand above her epic struggle
And say things she’d never say
My remark has our atmosphere defeated;
decimated by a laughing attack.
What’s so great anyway? I struggle to say,
it’s just dice rolls and papers with wrinkles
when I stand undefeated, readying my next attack.
they handed me five dice to roll.
It seemed even a fly would leave me defeated
then. Many rulebooks creased with wrinkles;
“I’m finally ready now!” I say,
but it’s still just a level one struggle.
And then there were times I struggle-
d to even remember my base attack
bonus. Every few minutes I’d still say,
“Tell me again, which dice do I roll?”
My character sheet gained fresh wrinkles
when no one in the party was defeated.
Every session, we’d be inevitably defeated.
Now it’s the players and DM who struggle
to smooth the conversation’s wrinkles;
technical arguments mixed with personal attack-
s. Every time there’s a dice roll
we didn’t expect, “What now!?” we say.
“You need a seventeen or higher” he say-
s. Fourteen. My fortitude save largely defeated;
failing by my own unlucky roll.
My character is now in a struggle
to stay alive. So I fight a small heart-attack.
This game induces premature wrinkles…
It’s no time for planning wrinkles;
we’ve advanced now. “This is it!” I say.
Level twenty, with nearly double the attack;
the enemies who use to leave us defeated
are no longer worth the struggle.
In the final fight I cast my first roll.
Then an abysmal dice roll
My scrunched face has wrinkles
When I stand above her epic struggle
And say things she’d never say
My remark has our atmosphere defeated;
decimated by a laughing attack.
What’s so great anyway? I struggle to say,
it’s just dice rolls and papers with wrinkles
when I stand undefeated, readying my next attack.