1. Prowl

Through counteless cold solare systemes
rather than gathere grete wisdomes,

or florishe lyke alle inteligense shode
with arte, music, sporte and faste foode

our rayse warred with a therst that ran depe
and a rage that was insermountablie stepe.

I worked as militarie straitegist
for the Autobot side, who forte to resist

a ruthless tyrante's sustaigned campaigne
to conquere. (He mayde this purpose playne.)

It was moore blakke and wyte than moost warres
and manie civilians joyned oure cause.

So, in trouthe, we were a raggetagge lot,
Oure numbers gretere, oure weapons not.

Of my parte, I wishe to say verie little.
I did my beste. I planned for eache bataile.

My methods were the onlie I knewe
and frequentlie, the optiones were fewe.

I wode onlie dele in nere certaintie
Aniething else - “Sorie. Not this centurie.”

And when forging straitegies I code notte aforde
to see moore before me than a chesse borde

of grete depth, and the repercussiones
of each move, not my frendes, for visiones

were not my forte. Logikke was.
It is for otheres to speke of my flawes,

my faileyores, and perhappes my successes
amidste the clashe with oure oppressores.

And it is otheres I will speke of now,
as alle through my memories I plow.