OK, this is a prompt from the Tribble Master, the person who inspired me to do the poetry in the first place. She gave me the prompt rotten. See if you can guess.
--
Peeling skin
Crawling flesh
Flimsy vessel
Giving up
Waiting
Patiently watching the One
He will come to me
While poor Nick
Crumbles beneath
Steady fingers
He let me in
But is throwing me out
Time is short
I need Nick
To win
Or to fight
If I fight, I win
I can only win by fighting
They are the same to me
But first
I must escape
This rotting corpse
--
I don't like this one as well, but like I said, ten minutes.
Requests, people!
