Poor Poet's Scroll

"No sword
Of wrath her right arm whirl'd, [6]
But one poor poet's scroll, and with 'his' word
She shook the world." - Tennyson, 'The Poet'

I may not shake the world, but I do believe in the power of words.

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13. Celestial Angel

A twin sun to the one that cast a feeble shine over snowy, sleepy suburbia.

An angel gracefully falling from celestial blue skies.

A shooting star that became space dazed and plummeted from beyond.

What about the shadow that guzzled the light away?

Darkening the skies in an angry blockade,

a fiery crescent smouldering the atmosphere.

 

This alien invader roared through the winter air, unwelcome,

plummeting down, down, lured by gravity’s pull.

Slamming down with an angry song to which glass danced,

thousands of lethal shards that sparkled in beautiful danger.

Humans too scared, to stunned to move, caught the smoke,

the glass, the debris that this monster hurled at them.

 

Out there, above pencil straight buildings and wispy clouds,

beyond the realm which air craft fly,

deep into a black cloth embellished with starry gems,

is an incomprehensible void of knowledge.

Our world which we think so safe,

hangs in the centre of a cosmic battle zone.

 

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