Hi everybody! How's it going? So, I'm not good with making fan art or killer cosplay or really amazing inspired designs but I do like writing poetry. And ever since, almost a year ago, after the first gameplay trailer, and now with Mr. Keanu Reeves and the release date trailer, I got enough inspiration to write something that I would like to share both with fans and with the members of CD Projekt Red--now, first, the poem is rated M, so I want to get that out of the way, maybe the forum will block some words, and English/German/Italian/Spanish aren't my native tongue so please be kind if I made any grammatical mistakes and it has 5 parts, in roman numerals, I II III IV and V. Anyway, without further ado, here's the poem and I would love to read your comments and critics about it. It's simply about how I imagine Night City life to be for a person who is doing anything to survive and make ends meet.
Also, I don't want to share links here but if you like it and want to read more of my poetry, hit me up via DM and I will share some links where my writing is in.
>>>Uploading CP2077POEMAU.2019.(ripper)doc
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THE NEON WASTELAND – A CyberPunk 2077 inspired poem
>>> Silverhand, golden gun—
set ablaze the city that’s in my blood <<<
I.
Initiate me, turn me on:
press play and find me in the shower
while I cleanse what I have devoured.
Spit some water, wash away the stench
of all my orders, my lovers and my regrets.
Got some eddies to spend, got some things goin’ on.
Updates and upgrades wait for no one.
Will you accompany me in my voyage to the void?
Why do I even bother asking in this cluster—fuck soil.
Degenerates, the depraved, debased corruption:
Motherfucker, welcome to the neon nation.
II.
This city’s foundation is cons, crimes and kurwas.
Climb atop buildings to find more artists,
warlords and pimps.
But I ain’t got no trouble with that—my mission is my gimp.
“People pay you to do some weird shit.”
No worries, Jackie-O, all pleasures have a price: and in this city
you either roll over and die or roll the dice.
You want me to take your breath away, you only need say—
con—con—centrate: mission accomplished,
an Eddy earned is an Eddy spent: gear me up, grind me in,
take me to the wonder man, make me a monster machine.
III.
[Die strassen von Night City sind groß und Massiv,
hast Du keine ahnung was Tempo ist dann raus aus dem Spiel!]
This is the advertisement that got Jackie to buy this joyride;
nightlights: purple and blue, running red lights, in my backseat I slide.
You don’t know danger ‘till you got the po-po in your popo:
but once them nightlights shine only wind can catch you
and maybe be grazed by a bullet or two.
That’s no trouble when you know the city better than they do.
Street corners are a hooker’s home.
And once I am home, where I am sheltered from their shame,
find me again after a much needed rest and back in the game.
IV.
[ GOODMORNING NIGHT CITY— ]
My eyes open wide in a noise isolated room,
jeans and jacket on the floor, no rest for the wicked:
why did I dream of flowers bloom?
Fast cars, fast food, fast men in the fast lane,
asphalt and scorching sun will make anyone insane—
but who’s got time for that: shower, dress up and participate.
Imbattibile: this is the fucking playground so be prepared to play.
My amigo is waiting at my door, says he’s got a job for me:
and in this economy, who can resist and say no?!
Come Jackie-O, show me, let me make that dough.
V.
Another day gone, and yet another night, more will come
what will be will be a delight—
you bet your machine ass at this bright neon lit height.
On top of these buildings you can see others cut the sky.
But I am a mere spectator in this skyscraper serenade:
rocker boys, nomads, netrunners and all other sorts,
come to Night City and have your fucking story told.
Bring your baggage, bring your boots,
bring your soul for the Corporate devil,
come and set your cybernetic roots.
Don’t worry about being wounded or a bruise, Trauma Team got a sale for you.
>>> Silverhand, golden gun—
set fire to this city and make ‘em run <<<
Also, I don't want to share links here but if you like it and want to read more of my poetry, hit me up via DM and I will share some links where my writing is in.
>>>Uploading CP2077POEMAU.2019.(ripper)doc
>>>File extracting... 11%... 59%... 85%...
>>> Passcode: T S E L I O T T W L
>>> 100% Upload complete.
THE NEON WASTELAND – A CyberPunk 2077 inspired poem
>>> Silverhand, golden gun—
set ablaze the city that’s in my blood <<<
I.
Initiate me, turn me on:
press play and find me in the shower
while I cleanse what I have devoured.
Spit some water, wash away the stench
of all my orders, my lovers and my regrets.
Got some eddies to spend, got some things goin’ on.
Updates and upgrades wait for no one.
Will you accompany me in my voyage to the void?
Why do I even bother asking in this cluster—fuck soil.
Degenerates, the depraved, debased corruption:
Motherfucker, welcome to the neon nation.
II.
This city’s foundation is cons, crimes and kurwas.
Climb atop buildings to find more artists,
warlords and pimps.
But I ain’t got no trouble with that—my mission is my gimp.
“People pay you to do some weird shit.”
No worries, Jackie-O, all pleasures have a price: and in this city
you either roll over and die or roll the dice.
You want me to take your breath away, you only need say—
con—con—centrate: mission accomplished,
an Eddy earned is an Eddy spent: gear me up, grind me in,
take me to the wonder man, make me a monster machine.
III.
[Die strassen von Night City sind groß und Massiv,
hast Du keine ahnung was Tempo ist dann raus aus dem Spiel!]
This is the advertisement that got Jackie to buy this joyride;
nightlights: purple and blue, running red lights, in my backseat I slide.
You don’t know danger ‘till you got the po-po in your popo:
but once them nightlights shine only wind can catch you
and maybe be grazed by a bullet or two.
That’s no trouble when you know the city better than they do.
Street corners are a hooker’s home.
And once I am home, where I am sheltered from their shame,
find me again after a much needed rest and back in the game.
IV.
[ GOODMORNING NIGHT CITY— ]
My eyes open wide in a noise isolated room,
jeans and jacket on the floor, no rest for the wicked:
why did I dream of flowers bloom?
Fast cars, fast food, fast men in the fast lane,
asphalt and scorching sun will make anyone insane—
but who’s got time for that: shower, dress up and participate.
Imbattibile: this is the fucking playground so be prepared to play.
My amigo is waiting at my door, says he’s got a job for me:
and in this economy, who can resist and say no?!
Come Jackie-O, show me, let me make that dough.
V.
Another day gone, and yet another night, more will come
what will be will be a delight—
you bet your machine ass at this bright neon lit height.
On top of these buildings you can see others cut the sky.
But I am a mere spectator in this skyscraper serenade:
rocker boys, nomads, netrunners and all other sorts,
come to Night City and have your fucking story told.
Bring your baggage, bring your boots,
bring your soul for the Corporate devil,
come and set your cybernetic roots.
Don’t worry about being wounded or a bruise, Trauma Team got a sale for you.
>>> Silverhand, golden gun—
set fire to this city and make ‘em run <<<