The Source, The Spring

“Captain, my Captain,

we have reached the end.

Eon’s Black Reach?

Here it begins.

The Source, the Spring,

our Soul Well, it seems.”

The Captain pondered

what it could mean.

“Well done, Ensign,

the end indeed,

Old Eon is clever,

but we’re more

clever than he.”

The Ensign furrowed

his brow,

“Captain, my Captain,

our radios are down,

the fuel is low,

too far

we’ve come

to share

what’s been found.”

The Captain pondered

just what she’d seen,

“Old Eon is clever…

clever, indeed.”


© CGT, 2018.

Related: The Cosmic Lovers

 

Blogging Poetry

Obol View All →

Obol is a poet and an infrequent writer of prose.

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