Very Old, Very Kind, and the Very Very Last

by book-thievery

The Doctor is many things. A wanderer, a helper, a murderer. An ancient being, with so much pain and loss darkening his ancient eyes. Sometimes it is all too much. This is a collection of poems that I write about the Doctor and his life and losses. Please leave your thoughts in a review! (Pretty please with a jammy dodger on top?)

10. Lost and alone

A/N hey guys. I wrote another sad thing.

What is my life any more but doctor who and fanfiction and feels and depression?

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Lost and alone

He runs from his past

Old and troubled

The very very last

Great and frightening

Stained with frozen blood

Small and cowering

Memories in mud

Aged and ageless

Can never atone

Proud and shining

Weapons sharply honed

Light and childlike

A contrasting mask

Dark and shadowed

On an aimless task

Lone and adrift

He runs from it all

Scared and selfish

And won't face the call

Drained and hateful

He falls to the ground

Black and damaged

To life he is bound

Feared and fearing

Ask how does he cope?

Plagued and empty

He clings to blind hope