Space Marines. A poem.

And we descend
Upon the patchwork scene below
Backpack thrusters filling the air
With poetic fire 
While the gibbous hordes
Mock and tease and gesture
Punctuating the dark with
Erstwhile curses and lamentations 
And unholy gunfire

For when we arrive 
We will cleanse this clotted land
Until this dark born heresy is no more
Bolters and flamers to purify
In the name of our emperor
Reclining in lifeless repose
Upon his exuberant throne
He who sees all and yet nothing 

For our story will go unspoken 
In the long and arduous annals 
As we mark time here
Amongst the fallen and those yet to
Marines until the end 
Of our wretched lives and lies

If you’ve heard of Warhammer 40k, which my son loves, you’ll guess what this poem is about. I’m no expert on the game’s lore, but I think this suits the feel of that world.

For more poetry, click here.