Saviour
Disclaimer: Doctor Who is owned by the same people that have done Torchwood. Bless them.
Just a poem about the Year that Never Was should they remember it.
It was a warm day on Earth,
The day we shouted the name,
The woman told us. She came
to us on blistering colds or
fiendish fire. Fear had wrapped
Within our guts, the constant
Of our lives. Helplessness wrapped
within our souls; all hope is lost.
The twinkling lights ona frost
shattered ay blinkered in the sun.
She came, we cowered and
Stared at her as if she was some
ancient power. 'It's her' we whipsered
amongst ourselves. Never daring to
approach. The lenged stands before
our eyes in front of the slave coach.
We dare not ask why she is here,
Why she has come to us. They wait,
They watch and hid out of sight,
these metal balls lurk. The globes
dismiss her, the presense of female
Unknown. We look, we stare, upon
Our Saviour, The woman told us
The word.
We brewed the legend upon her command,
her last instruction to us. Use the
countdown, remember the name,
together humanity shall stand.
We shout the name, the single word
Just as we were told. And Pray and
hope the day has come, for the Master's
story to Be untold.