The Oncoming Storm
You see him.
Staring at you.
You can see the pain behind the eyes,
The eyes of a traveller.
The eyes of a protector.
The eyes that watched worlds burn.
He's been the cause of the burn,
He's also been the one to try and save it.
Sometimes, he was successful.
More often than not, he wasn't.
He heard the screams,
The wails,
The agony of others.
And all he did was move on.
He never stays to clean up.
Rarely stays to help.
It's because he can't stand to see what he caused.
He turns his back on you,
And you see.
He's like a storm, fierce and beautiful.
He's like the ice, piercing and cold.
He's like a fire; Stand too close and people get burnt.
In the end,
Nobody can ignore the ferocity of the Oncoming Storm.
So watch out for him,
The so-called healer,
The Doctor.
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who. Doctor Who is the property of the BBC.
Feedback would be greatly appreciated. I'm normally really paranoid in what I publish, and a poem is right at the top of paranoia. I'll take any review in my stride, whether it be constructive criticism, flame, or a simple appreciation of the poem.
Thanks for reading.