A poem heavily inspired by Doom, dedicated to a former friend who now genuinely hates me. Before, she was one of the few friends who truly gave a shit, and it was second nature to her. I wrote this to show her how much I fucked up. 

 

This is the story of how the Doom Marine came to be. 

 

Quote

I fucked up.

 

Somewhere along the line

I fucked up

And I didn't even know it until now.

 

My college prospects were soaring

To the point of scoring an internship

And I even landed a stable job

Little did I know

This was the closest I would get to being a productive person

 

I had a date for the high school prom

Her original date couldn't go

I owed her a dance

Little did I know

This was the closest I would get to the hot and sweaty body of the opposite sex

 

Then came the draft

To counter some backwater militia

And I killed innocents across the planet

Little did I know

This was the closest I would get to traveling the world

 

Then I was kicked off the planet

To guard some outpost on Mars

Then came the distress signals

Little did I know

This was the last time I would ever see a human being.

 

Instead of a doctorate degree in my hand,

I instead get the standard-issue 12-gauge combat shotgun

 

Instead of a high-paying job with all sorts of benefits,

I instead get the extermination job to clean out some galactic shithole

 

Instead of the warm and sensual touch of a woman,

I instead get the spinal cord of demon spawn trapped within my bloody hands

 

Instead of seeing the world and appreciating whatever beauty it may have,

I instead get the eldritch sights of Hell itself

 

Instead of a loving wife and a family,

I instead get the arsenal I now have and call it my own friends

 

Instead of growing old and passing away peacefully,

I instead get the chance to finally fall by the wretched claws of Hell's dark agents.

 

Due to whatever monster I became

I may never enjoy the fruits of human pleasure

Be it financial, emotional or sexual.

 

Should I finally die

And die an unnatural death,

The world will not know of my exploits or my travels

The world will know how badly I fucked up.

 

And the best part?

I wouldn't have it any other way.

 

 

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11 hours ago, purist said:

Doom guy rebooted as an angsty virgin..

Heh, wasn't Doomguy as a virgin considered canon by John Carmack? 

 

:P

 

EDIT: Real talk, I wrote this poem shortly after I had a fallout with this friend. Plus, it's been almost 2 years since the fallout, and I just felt like posting it here just for the hell of it. Now that you pointed it out, yeah, it is pretty angsty. 

 

Even back 2 years ago, it turned out that I was still being a "niceguy," even if I kept lying to myself and to others. Looking at this now, it does remind me of those "niceguy" days. If anything, the fallout may have cost me one of my closest friends, but it did destroy the "niceguy" part of me that was starting to make a comeback (but it didn't help I had a nervous breakdown during the fallout).

Edited by Man of Doom

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