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Publicada el 18 FEB 2021 a las 12:55
Actualizada el 13 DIC 2024 a las 0:45

“An Ode to Counter-Strike”

Oh Counter-Strike, my bittersweet delight,
Where dreams of glory meet flashbangs so bright.
I buy my AWP, a deadly tool,
Then miss my shot and look like a fool.

The eco rounds, a gamble we play,
“Save your cash!” my teammates say.
But someone buys, their greed takes root,
And now we’re stuck with a single deagle and a dream to shoot.

The bomb ticks down, the tension is high,
Defuse or explode? It’s do or die.
A ninja’s hope in a sea of despair,
Only to hear, “HE’S IN THE SMOKE! RIGHT THERE!”

Teammates scream, “Rush B, no stop!”
While I lag behind, caught by a pop.
A Molotov burns, my health bar fades,
My squad yells, “Noob, uninstall—arcade’s that way!”

But still I return, to queue once more,
In this land of headshots and broken decor.
For every clutch, every ace, every spray,
Keeps me addicted—I’ll play all day.

Oh Counter-Strike, my muse and my bane,
Your chaos runs rampant through each match I play.
Though my rank remains a silver’s plight,
I’ll keep clicking heads… maybe tonight.
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