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mastin2 -> RE: M's Cursed, Dreaded Poetry 1.75 (11/16/2008 5:58:25)
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Hero
He was a nobody,
in love with a somebody,
no way to gain her,
no way to sway her.
He settled for what he got;
a janitor on their ship is what he got.
He would stare; he would dream,
but he’d always return to reality.
He lived his life a small figure,
maintaining his goddess’s ship.
While she and her group would adventure,
he would stay behind and dream.
Never could he imagine the cliché:
her group being captured a fateful day.
He was broken; he was shattered.
He was left without his love, without a life.
What could he possibly do?
When his reason for living was through?
He swore an oath on that day,
that he’d save them and make their captors pay.
He knew the odds were impossible,
that if she had failed, he was doomed.
But his mind was set, keeping stable.
The fight would be hard, but he would win.
He saw their ship departing with their cargo
and followed behind, following the flow.
He could die a painful death,
but by this time, he really didn’t care.
For hours, he followed, staying behind,
running through his head what combat he knew.
He was determined; he didn’t care what he’d find.
When they emerged, he prepared to fight.
It’s all because of that one little vow,
a few words meaningless to most, now.
He had sworn an oath on that day,
that they’d be freed and their captors pay.
As futile as it seemed,
foolish as others deemed,
he opened fire, hitting his foe,
but only leaving a dent in the shield.
What could he do?
Would he face death?
‘No!’ He refused!
His cause was noble.
He couldn’t accept defeat,
to bow his head to their feet.
He would strike back; he would win;
his mind became sharper than it’d ever been.
He twisted and turned the craft,
crashing the ship into the other.
He made his escape through the ventilation shaft,
now dedicated to his course forever.
He knew he was only a pretender,
but his goal meant he’d never surrender!
He swore an oath on that day,
to rescue them and make their captors pay.
He sneaked through the vessel,
his journey fraught with peril.
Could he be caught? Could he fight?
This wasn’t his job; he held no might.
Why risk life and limb on a pointless quest?
No matter what, he’d have a hole in his chest.
One old thought he’d heard before drove him on;
knowing her words was more than enough.
Hope itself will never die;
it will shoot through the sky.
He told himself that on that day,
they’d be rescued and their captors pay!
This he knew to be only truth!
No matter the cost, there’d be a way!
His friends would escape the planned fray;
this much he swore to himself!
He jumped in, surprising the guards.
They were tough, but he was hard.
His determination was great;
they could never break his resolve.
He won the fight,
grabbed the keys.
He brought the guards
to their knees.
He was determined
to fight to the end.
They might beat him,
but never would he die!
Hope itself would never fall;
it is the greatest weapon of all.
By swearing on this faithful day,
that his friends go free, his foes would pay!
His hope was great; his love was greater.
With these powers, his enemies weren’t better.
The good in his heart would triumph;
his will would slay any evil in his way.
This was his mission;
this was his cause.
He would save them all
without a pause.
He rushed forward, keys in hand.
We would save his goddess’s band.
When guards did oppose him,
he dispatched them in a whim.
He located their cell,
glad that they were well.
They were shocked to see him;
he responded with a grin.
He armed them with weapons,
and gave them their bearings.
Getting in would be only half the battle;
if they weren’t careful, they’d be slaughtered like cattle.
He knew hope was very high;
now his hope had breached the sky.
He had made sure on that day,
they’d be free and their captors pay.
They fought their way through the ship,
hoping their plight was not a one-way trip.
They headed to the control level,
hoping to escape the body of the devil.
They found what they wanted:
a way of this deathtrap.
After they downloaded the map,
the decision was made to blow it up as they leave.
But there were some problems;
the crew was told to operate the guns.
There was death;
there was destruction.
The fight was brutal;
the battle was unforgiving.
But, in the end, all were living.
All due to one man’s skill found by love.
The self-destruct was set;
their hopes had been met.
He got praised for his new-found skill;
he said it was just his fighting will.
The group asked no questions;
the time for praise was later.
They were still in danger,
nothing but escaped invaders.
The group dashed for their hope,
reaching the exit with no resistance.
At the moment, he realized his reason for existence;
A single man met them, gun in hand.
The captain was revealed,
the mastermind of the capture.
The captain fired his pistol,
but he acted as a shield.
They opened fire,
avenging his mortal wound.
When offered a trip to the hospital,
he refused; they must leave soon.
The escape was attempted,
but for one final foil:
to launch their escape pod,
one would stay behind, left for dead.
He urged them on;
without his sacrifice, they’d all be gone.
He confessed his feelings of love,
and then forced them in.
He gave them his thanks;
they gave him his joy.
He assured them of his happiness,
and that one thought kept him from sadness:
He knew that when he swore on that day,
that he’d succeed, even if both he and enemies would pay.
But his love drove him on, with their saying a motivator:
Hope itself will never die.
It will shoot through the sky.
As long as there is happiness,
hope will conquer sadness.
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