DOUG BEYER

This week, we’re taking a break from the main Magic lore to bring you a special piece of poetry to commemorate You Make the Set 2016‘s upcoming release. Enjoy!

Once upon a Friday night,
assembled players with all their might,
netdecking unholy beasts of yore.
I arrived, stoic, to instigate a fight,
with my assembled deck of birds of flight,
a deck of isles tapping for blue and nothing more;-
one blue, one colorless, and nothing more.

Beginning my first round in that hot July,
upon which my Storm Crows I would rely,
stacked a flock of forty in my library of forgotten lore.
With twenty Islands to help them fly,
toward my opponent’s face ‘cross the sky,
forty Storm Crows, and nothing more;-
forty 1/2s, and nothing more.

Began I drew my hand and stare,
six lands and Storm Crow, of company bare,
less than lethal was the sum.
Turn two I conjured my familiar there,
prayers of victory or perhaps fortune’s fare,
should I topdeck another Storm Crow fair,
then tapped my Storm Crow and swung for one;-
a single Storm Crow, it swings for one.

A grin grew on my opponent’s face,
his Eldrazi minions thrust forth with grace,
while my Storm Crow swings for a measly one.
Should I draw more gas and keep apace
of the damage present and his quickening pace,
he redzones his dude and attacks my sum;-
Two points of damage, eighteen is my sum.

Desperately I knock my lore
of feathers and beaks, much still in store,
should I draw my crows and begin the game in true.
Yet my opponent he begins to snore,
bored of our match and Eldrazi at his fore,
me sitting cornered behind ample lands of blue;-
a furrow of doubt grows behind lands of blue.

Furious digging brings ill of fortune,
my opponent chuckles at my misfortune,
telling me I should “get good.”
Yet ten cards yield no battlefield burgeon,
my life total in need of a chirurgeon,
it drops to twelve against forests of wood;-
World Breaker then summoned by forests of wood.

As time cruelly wilts the fragrant rose,
his Eldrazi rise and raze and hose
my mana base and library as they insatiably ingest,
draining my resources and my heart froze:
my second-seen Storm Crow exiled and my misery grows,
unable to summon it and I digest;-
my board state shrivels as he casts Infest.

Soon a scoop seems necessary,
but time for play is scant and I am wary,
of starting this FNM zero-one.
Strength failing, I place hand on library, wary,
gulping deeply through my neckbeard hairy,
for a third Storm Crow to attack him some;-
another attempt to attack my opponent’s sum.

Fate clips his wings and my deck delivers,
a Storm Crow finds me and my heart it quivers,
hubris wrapped in the guise of an attacker for one.
I tap two mana, cast it, and my opponent shivers,
cold to the stratagem I have delivered,
and mercifully skips combat to see me swing for one;-
a Storm Crow asking me, “swing for one?”

Facing lethal in retaliation,
beads of sweat punctuate my hesitation,
knowing that this fight cannot be won.
My opponent chuckles in anticipation,
flicks his cards to my agitation,
then instigates forth, “swing for one?”;-
I commit to my fate and swing for one.

Ought not that would I build this brew,
a single game plan I was due,
building and playing this deck simply for fun.
But after twenty cards from my deck in view,
only two Storm Crows took wing and flew,
my life falls to zero and the duel is done;-
the Storm Crow scooped after a swing for one.

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