Your Biggest Fan: An English Project in the Form of a Ballad
Thunder, lightning; boom and clap.
Twigs beneath my sneakers snap.
Towards the mend, reality bends,
And from the lens I take the cap.
The first contraption isn't hard
But I will need to be on my guard.
Locks unlock, reveal a shock.
Yet hark, lest I hear Scotland Yard.
The box machine's the tricky part.
I hardly know where I should start.
Layout schemes, I'm making dreams
Come true, a very complex art.
The blueprints that I've sketched and drawn
Have made me tired, and thus I yawn.
But yet I must paint over rust,
And make sure all the wood is sawn.
At last I look upon the thing
I add the key upon my ring.
Towards the mend, reality bends.
But I'm not close to finishing.
I jump inside the police box.
I think I'll aim for Scottish lochs.
The whirring starts, but I see sparks.
The flame begins, red as a fox.
The fire retardant I soon find.
Police box needs to be redesigned.
Perhaps the shield began to yield
To temporal winds of evil mind.
The problem found, I fix her soon.
It takes me until half-past noon.
I shall go mad if I can't make the lad
Perfect in moment opportune.
The design of whom I'll soon create
Is finished. Now I need to translate
My plans to flesh, while skin is fresh.
I need to work at a faster rate.
Two hearts, three lungs with bronchioles.
I fix and patch up all the holes.
Don't you see? It was easy!
A Time Lord made without a soul.
The body bag I'm forced to drag
I place on England's sandy shoals.
Gallifrey on All Saint's Day
Will re-emerge, as hot as coals.
Davison, Tennant and Troughton,
Baker, Smith and Eccleston,
McCoy, Pertwee, Hartnell, McGann,
These ten names will make him man.
Thunder, lightning; boom and clap.
The hands in chain and lock I wrap.
Towards the mend, reality bends.
And from the lens I take the cap.
"Exterminate!" "Your struggle is futile!"
The TV screen runs all the while.
Lightning strikes, he moves, he bites.
The Doctor winks, and starts to smile.
"Why've you tied me?" he inquires.
"Well, I had the extra wire."
"Who are you, young man?" "Oh, I'm just a fan."
"A desperate one." He perspires.
"What is the camera for?" he asks.
"Oh this one here? It performs a few tasks.
It's recorded my experiments by
filming. I keep the tapes in these casks."
"I'd like to know what your intentions are."
"A fixed point in time, a star
Has been destroyed, and made annoyed
the Cybermen. Them, we cannot bar.
"Time has been ripped out of joint
And thus, it's you whom I appoint
To save us all, but it's your call."
"Son, I think you've missed the point.
"I don't think I'm the one for this.
I've only just begun to exist.
I've never walked, I've only talked,
And that's a miracle. Untie my wrist.
"You've broken the world a little, mate.
I shouldn't be here, the cracks, there are eight,
Will follow me 'til I cease to be.
You've doomed the Earth to a messy fate.
"Your fantasies should not be real.
They should be things you cannot feel.
Why I'm one of your dreams, son,
I do not know." He moves to kneel.
"If you had not made me," he yells,
"The Cybermen would leave, I tell
the truth to you, I swear it's true!"
His words ring out, clear as a bell.
"So if I let you leave," I say,
"The Cybermen leave, the Earth will stay?"
"Perhaps, perhaps. Time might relapse."
"That won't do. My thoughts won't sway.
"I've made you, and now you must sit
And write down what to do, legit."
"You've played your cards, I give you regards.
But you made me the sonic screwdriver." S***.
A buzzing sound, a flash, a click.
The lock falls to the sand packed thick.
The Doctor flees, runs for the trees,
Where sits the TARDIS, live and wick.
He ran in through the navy blue door.
Vwaarp. Vwaarp. "Bon accord!"
I am fatigued. But still intrigued.
My pocket held the screwdriver… phwoar.
A/N: So I had to do a project for English. It was to write a poem. One of the books we had to read toward the beginning of the semester was Frankenstein, which I rather enjoyed. So during our poetry unit, the final unit, I got this idea in my head of a modern version of Frankenstein. Soon enough, my thoughts were dragged to Doctor Who, and this ballad was born. I think I got a very good mark on it, seeing as how my overall English mark was 85%, which is saying something because I got a very bad mark on the test about 1984, and only a mediocre mark on my persuasive essay.
Anyway, this is my first shot at Doctor Who FanFiction. I hope I did well. If you have any complaints or questions, review or PM me.