Well you see I have a whole cycle of poems, Elegies for Lost Links, among them one who was tempted to choose Zero Suit. That crisis in our history has been averted, in part due to my warnings, but here are some remnants in case you are tempted (I should write them for that Shiek secondary of yours
):
It was out on the bustling boards I read Link was dead,
As Shinnymetal considered choosing Zero,
While I was loitering among the crowd in dread –
No more Link, no more praise – no more Hero.
Will spectators weep with tried and true tears
When you lose with Zero Suit, and mourn?
Will the Links hear your laments with honest ears?
Will they sound your loss with muted horn?
They won’t. With Samus sunk and stupefied
You deepen in your sleep of death.
Links may sleep sounder now that you’ve died:
So it’s as well that now you save your breath.
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I saw him using Link’s fine frame,
I saw a furrow in his brow;
I wish’d him skill, success and fame—
I do not wish it now.
For those are all their own reward,
When it is Link that’s used;
Victory is always hard,
So often we’re abused.
Alas! yet of this one man,
In his proud, worn state,
I expected more than can
The average Link relate.
But now he is by Zero Suit foil’d
No more! and we retain
The memory of a Link, unspoil’d
Mighty, victorious and humane.
Though all vict’ries he had not,
He gave me his true vow.
But Samus has long changed his lot,
And he is useless now.
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Link users and mains! should the shield and the sword
Be beaten while we do the work of our Lord,
Forget not Shinnymetal's treacherous path:
Bury his sheets and show him your wrath!
You who once bore a sword and a bow,
You betray us, in these worried times,
now!?
Stretch me this moment in blood at your feet;
Ours be the doom which you dared not meet.
Farewell to Shinny, but never Links part,
Warriors of Hyrule, dear to my heart!
Great is the pride, boundless the sway
But ghastly the death, that Links felt today.
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I see the Link mains, but I swear
One is not alike this day;
One Link has breathed forbidden air:
He’s nearly gone with gay.
Metal, steel, shinny -- nay! foul dog
He is not the same in look;
His image is all in the fog
His mem’ry in some nook.
Link, epona and her proud song
Are now but trash to him;
His spirit is no longer young
His future dull and grim.
His wonder’s gone, and his sick Suit
Burns dead, without a flame;
He is now some filthy brute,
Not worthy of our name.