Oh wonderous poet (oops got that bit wrong)
Thou doest fine deeds on this great site
Give us belly laughs into the night
and yes even unto dawn
And as ink from your artless pen doth flow
our admiration ever grows
for the great man that is you
Humility is in your soul
fine penned words you have for all
who could never aspire to be
as great as you
Shakespeare would never have a chance
against your worthless art
for surely he would be the lesser man

So oh oh oh great Logbrain pen the words
that fill our mundane lives with so much mirth
Dogbrain write for us

The truth is he laid beside me on the firing line
my brother
No race or colour came into it
He shaved one day and cut his chin
and the blood flowed deepest red
And so I said "my brother let me bleed instead
I care not from where you come
the colour of your skin
You are the brother whom I love
on the fighting line
The deadly day the bullet hit
I shed the tears for you
It was me who cleaned the blood and ****
from the body that once was you
You see, you were black,  I was white
but our blood ran the deepest red
And for me you took the round
and so my dear brother died

Loghain,  having reread most of your beautiful works on numerous occasions I have come to realise that you truly are one of the worlds greatest:

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ARSEHOLES

The devil came in depth of night
to stop the beat of Loh Chaenes heart
and thus he did the world deny
the art that from the pen did flow.

No more, no more
the gift of flowing verse
will we now have chance to read
we are now left here to grieve
the loss of his great mind

Loh Chaene gave us oh so much
with his great great artistic touch
the fluid flow as the words did grow
from the pen of this great man

Humility was in his soul
with oft encouragement
for young and old
who tried to pen the verse like him
but our poor works cant compare

And so the worlds become a better place
now that Loh Chaenes soul has gone
for the lesser man now can shine
as we pen both verse and rhyme
be as great as him perhaps

R.I.P Loh Chaene

His life was in the city spent
But 'twas into the hills he went
In his pocket lighter and small knife
He never knew they could save his life
Alas he knew not what to do
And perished in icy mountain dew
With a knife he could have a shelter built
Of branches twigs and mountain grass
A lighter is the soul of life
The ultimate giver of life and fire
So as they lowered him to the grave
They learned the harsh lesson of the day
If you wish to the mountains go
Then learn thd lesson of what to do