Let me sing a song, good folk,
about certain Ulfric Stormcloak,
fighting against the Empire's yoke,
but still dumb as an oak.
It all starts with a poke,
when Great War awoke,
Ulfric was caught in the smoke,
tickled by Thalmor's stroke.
Returned home, broke,
a little cub awoke,
raising an army, a Stormcloak,
but what a joke.
What does these words evoke,
about Ulfric Farts-Under-Cloak?
And so he spoke and spoke,
a storm of farts invoke.
But that is only a joke,
'cause Ulfric can only provoke,
with no chance to outsmoke,
Empire's yoke.
Comments
And upon your page us readers tread.
Ulfric a joke? What more to be said.
And now I cease... and put this rhyme to bed..
Don't ask where this came from... drew inspiration fr... more