Nicolò Fagioli (60 Viewers)
- Thread starter Mark
- Start date
What is this tweet.
Didn’t Jj fans believe he was the chosen one
or was that Soulé?
or was that Rovella?
or was that barrennecks?
or was that iling jr?
or was that correira?
or was that Hasa?
All the while Hamza was the only one who produced when the club needed it most
cc @Firestarter
or was that Soulé?
or was that Rovella?
or was that barrennecks?
or was that iling jr?
or was that correira?
or was that Hasa?
All the while Hamza was the only one who produced when the club needed it most
cc @Firestarter
The Ballad of Fagioli
Oh, Juventuz, ye dreamers bold,
Who cast thy hopes in a star of gold,
Nicolo, thy chosen, thy shining boy,
The promised spark of thy future joy.
They hailed thee maestro, with skill untold,
Thy youth a treasure, thy fate foretold.
But oh, how frail is the heart of men,
When trials rise and truths unpen.
Suspended once for thy gambler’s vice,
A sin that stained, a heavy price.
Yet pardoned thou wert, to the pitch returned,
But wherefore the fire that once brightly burned?
Thou play’st with grace, but empty of soul,
A primadonna, bereft of goal.
No grinta stirs within thy breast,
No courage wakes to face the test.
And @DanielSz , @s4tch , thy champions true,
Would hear no ill, no fault in view.
Like inquisitors, they scorned the thought,
That thou, fair Nicolo, art less than they sought.
Yet now thy play doth sorely betray,
Thy promise dimmed, thy worth astray.
A tale of hope turned bitter woe,
Oh, Nicolo, where did thy greatness go?
Juventuz weeps for the dream they lost,
For the golden boy who bore such cost.
Let all who wager on youth beware,
For glory’s mantle is hard to wear.
Oh, Juventuz, ye dreamers bold,
Who cast thy hopes in a star of gold,
Nicolo, thy chosen, thy shining boy,
The promised spark of thy future joy.
They hailed thee maestro, with skill untold,
Thy youth a treasure, thy fate foretold.
But oh, how frail is the heart of men,
When trials rise and truths unpen.
Suspended once for thy gambler’s vice,
A sin that stained, a heavy price.
Yet pardoned thou wert, to the pitch returned,
But wherefore the fire that once brightly burned?
Thou play’st with grace, but empty of soul,
A primadonna, bereft of goal.
No grinta stirs within thy breast,
No courage wakes to face the test.
And @DanielSz , @s4tch , thy champions true,
Would hear no ill, no fault in view.
Like inquisitors, they scorned the thought,
That thou, fair Nicolo, art less than they sought.
Yet now thy play doth sorely betray,
Thy promise dimmed, thy worth astray.
A tale of hope turned bitter woe,
Oh, Nicolo, where did thy greatness go?
Juventuz weeps for the dream they lost,
For the golden boy who bore such cost.
Let all who wager on youth beware,
For glory’s mantle is hard to wear.
