Promotion
by Thomas D. Reynolds
You listen when I talk, though the accent is clipped. My long thin face Then fear engulfs you My voice is metallic walk among the dead, weapon yet pulsing, and signal to the guards. When they secure your arms, your stoic demeanor dissolves into terror, though surrender is impossible. |
We should have a ceremony! As the only survivor, you are deemed captain of this now defunct ship. Never would you have imagined You should be proud, You will give us of your lofty station press upon you. Are those worry lines? |
Copyright © 2005 by Thomas D. Reynolds