Obliged Tribe example essay topic

409 words
Blinding luminosity, the aroma of fresh rain on freshly cut grass lingers about. Savory hints of boiling butter fill the air. Familiar scents of hotdogs triggers seeping adrenaline into my veins. Discombobulated harmony passes my cerebellum.

Pounding percussion beats my brain. A plethora of concussions move the air in synergy. The battle is about to commence! Warriors begin to astir, wailing war cries. The chieftain rambles to his tribe, his name is... to be obliged. Swirling playas flow leisurely along the battlefield, for the night before was a wild one.

Warriors in the state of wallowing, impede the ailing and forsaken enemy. Drearily the dismal clan cultivates its wounds. The enemy's jowls quiver at the sight of the outmatching knights. The aroma from a fortress of solitude seems to be forward and protrude, as the chieftain leads his tribe to congregate in safety. The chieftain screeches and says "Can we win?" The captain mutters "Maybe". Cold wind blows grimly along my neck, for a cool shower will last out the hour.

Damsels call to me like sirens (alluding to Iliad and the Odyssey). Masticating mandibles bite on their mouth guards, feeding the frenzy. A fowl stench creeps up on the hoi polloi, as they watch their tribe futilely flailing for its final time. Exuberant kin of a warrior says, "Mommy, did we win?" I felt helpless, exfoliating all of my emotions.

A silky drip slid down my face, to my lipid-filled lips. Sour flavor generates a tangy sensation. A punctual disarray sweeps over me. Fanatics distraught ly strut to the center of the field. The obliged tribe had ailed, failed. No more can we struggle amongst brothers in the huddle.

Kinsmen are now sobbing, and their hearts are torn to bits, but all I can think about is the next time I'll eat grits. I don't feel sad because we lost but because I couldn't help my teammates win. I hope I learn a life lesson in this, no more sitting and watching, I'll make sure I get in. I can't help but wonder if winning that game would have brought splendor. I can't take the helpless feeling anymore, it's more than my heart can render. Title:" A Relapse of Catastrophe, Heretofore Once More" Author: Nicholas Robert Noe.