There once was a group called the Niners, Who thought they could use gold miners. What they found out instead is the game's truly dead. They had no recourse but to end this long course; 'Coz they do things we've all come to dread.
There once was a man from the Discord
Who tried to pull rhymes from his gourd.
Down he sat with displeasure.
Until he hit the treasure,
A book of poetry beneath his floorboard!
There one was a game named Firefall,
Who was plagued with bugs by the thrall
But whatever The9-ers did, they couldn't play ball, so they hid.
And couldn't prevents the game's downfall.