HERE
THERE BE DRAGONS
DISCLAIMER: I don't own them, Marvel
does. Although I'd like to see them prove that it was the X-Men I
was writing about. ;-)
SUMMARY: It's a poem again. sigh I
actually - shock, horror! - got inspired for this one. It's easy to
get inspired. Just get silly rhymes to run through your head over and
over again. Anyway. It's set after the death of the X-Men (all the
X-Men, thank you, Bishop), where an old mutant is explaining to a
young one how the death of the X-Men brought about the world he lives
in. I think. How can one really be sure with poems, anyway?
PAIRINGS: None. Hah! Not even a specific character. Bonus points
for being able to guess which verse is about which character. Go on,
you know you want to try...
RATING: PG-13 for disturbing
imagery. Sorry. :-)
ARCHIVE: Wherever. Just let me know 'bout
it.
FEEDBACK: I live for it.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Inspired by two different things. Firstly, this Star Trek: The Next Generation book. Go on, laugh all you want. g It was actually rather good. The title was "Here There Be Dragons", and it was Ro Laren story, primarily. Very cool. The second inspiration was a poem by a poet whose name escapes me at the moment. Elizabeth something. But the title of the poem is "One Art", which inspired the first verse of this. Oh, okay, three inspirations. Sonnet 18 by Shakespeare for the last verse. You know you recognise the expression. ;-)
DEDICATION: To my brother. For humouring me, whichever fandom I happen to be obsessed with from week to week. Thanks, sweetie. :-)
Here
there be vast realms, rivers, skies;
And in this abandoned
continent,
Here there be heroes, thoughts and
laughter,
Sunshine, courage spent.
Here there be ruins,
charred corpses
Fallen to the floor.
Here there be broken
chains,
Still swaying to and fro.
Here there be children's
skulls,
Piled in a heap;
Here there be taverns,
graveyards,
A morgue, a keep.
Here there be fingers worked
to the bone,
Ground up to the wrist.
Here there be legs,
arms, hair,
Claws, half a fist.
Here there be red
eyes,
Laughing demonspawn,
Here there be tempest storm
And
crimson dawn.
Here there be white tatters,
Silver strips of
bloodied hair,
Here there be the desecrated corpses
Of the
panther and the bear.
Here there be the end of sunshine;
The
end of days,
Here there be burnt rooms, burnt toys,
Scattered
ashes in the maze.
Here there be your midwives,
Those who
tended you in birth;
Here there be your parents,
Screaming,
swallowed by the earth.
Here there be memories forgot
And
eyes that no longer see -
Here there be the graves of
dragons:
'Twas they, my child, that gave life to
thee.
fin
