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Ladies and Gentlemen, I am Rayze Darr, author of the discontinued story "The 'Don't Starve' Program." Now, issues with my ideas for the story have stopped me from continuing it at this time, but in the mean time, I'd still like to do some writing about the "Don't Starve" universe. My answer? Poetry! Yes, my good men and women, I will be writing "Don't Starve" themed poems! These will mainly be based off of canon "Don't Starve" facts and lore, but I may, later down the road, sneak in some poems based on my ideas for my remake of my "Don't Starve" fan fiction. That being said, I would also like to post the name I currently have in my mind to title the new story for when it comes, and seek feedback on it. Maxwell Presents: The Don't Starve Prime Time Extravaganza! The new story, as I'm currently plotting, will follow the same premise. "Don't Starve" is a 24-hour TV program that anyone in the world can tune in to at any time, allowing them to follow the "contestant" in real-time. Maxwell serves as both game master and host. As for new ideas...-Rather than first person, the story shall be told from a third person perspective... Maxwell's! -A timeline, allowing readers to follow events in the order they come. -Sub-chapters, single chapters that will follow an entire, minor character's adventure, and death, in the world. -A prequel! Taking place before Wilson, Wendy, etc. were even heard of. This also allows me to use more... -Original characters! I'm currently brainstorming a geeky, yet lovable, female as the main character. So yes, this topic serves two purposes. One, feedback on my in-progress "Don't Starve" fan-fiction, which I will not even begin to write until after Launch. Two, to showcase some more of my "Don't Starve" work and perspective in the form of poetry. Please, do enjoy the poems that I have come up with! Though I will only post one to start, more will come as I find inspiration in the "Don't Starve" world. And finally, I love you all! Maxwell A watcher, a player, and god of this realm, The tyrant whose hand sits so tight on the helm, Creating whatever events he sees fit, For the suffering pawns he seeks to overwhelm. Despised though he is by the damned he controls, He still dictates their fates with each die that he rolls, From the marsh to the forest and all lands between, It is he who’s behind all these rising death tolls, It is he who controlled every moment we’ve seen, From the plains to the quarries that ended our goals. A madman, a genius, a demon some say, For no others would work human lives like a play, Or would they all do so were they given the chance? For there’s nothing else he’d rather do with his day. And he must be stopped, all his little pawns cry, But before they can do so they’ll all surely die, Because they are on his field and his battleground, And they cannot win despite how hard they try, And they cannot fathom that he’s all around, Because they hold on to the most beautiful lie. Each small blade of grass is created by hand, He’s forged every snowflake that touches the land, And crafted the monsters that call it their home, With his pawns’ lifeless bodies his personal brand. So abandon all hope, should you land in his sight, And come ready to die or come ready to fight. The game master waits to lay claim to your ghost, To strike down the heroes with furious might, To strike down the heroes the world loves the most, The game master waits in the darkness of night.