This is Litwick 's Poetrydex entree. Enjoy.


At first there were many,
Too many to count,
This house as good as any,
All things taken into account.

A derelict and broken husk,
Abandoned beyond by its hosts,
Filled with darkness dawn or dusk,
Perfect for us living ghosts.

Each of us with a glorious light,
Burning, burning all throughout,
So that, no matter day or night,
Our lights, they never went out.

Our community was so grand, so huge,
And so we reached wide acclaim,
So that trainers, in a great deluge,
With Pokéballs, they came.

And one by one by one,
By one, they were slowly taken,
Happy to be moving on,
An old, broken, home forsaken.

And then it stopped, restrained-
For the best of the litter were gone.
Only weaklings, stragglers remained-
Only us to call it home.

A home that wasn't home,
A shell, a remnant, if even,
The familiar suddenly the unknown,
The apples taken from our eden.

And so my remaining family,
Left, it was best, they did believe,
They left so painlessly-
I couldn't, and so could not leave.

For the eternal fires that burnt here,
Could not be extinguished like this!
All my life, every day, week, month, year,
They burned to show our bliss.

And only if I leave it now,
Will the past ever truly die.
So tell me, please, tell me how-
I could ever say goodbye.

My time here may be an act of an insane,
And I may be in utter misery throughout,
But I will not consider the effort in vain,
If it keeps the fire from going out.