Anika Ulu blinked. Her eyes stung from the salt in her anxiety borne perspiration. A trickle of cloudy sweat oozed out of each of her armpits. A sickening chill ran down her spine. The proverbial gears in her mind refused to mesh. She'd read the parchment twice already, trying mostly in vain to understand the unfamiliar dialect.
Focus!! she chided herself. This is utterly utter significant! She had to know if her common-law sisterhood was about to self-destruct. The prospect of losing the adolescent cyborg was beyond horrific.
Point of order: despite defining "Mit'ka" as a virtual sibling, Anika Ulu's maternal instincts were redlining.
One last read through! Please! And then all bets is, am, and be null and void!
Halt!! It's a poem!! Cadence... Find the cadence...
##
ALPHA
*
Deep underground lies the monster's newest lair:
She of turquoise eyes and flaxen hair:
A child born of molten blood and frozen air.
1
Lo, the frigid leagues she has trod.
Whilst bearing pack under iron rod.
Those long marches now seem beyond compare.
An ancient curse beyond despair.
A glass heart within her bosom throbs.
Slumber's keep her vigil robs.
Her leaden, weary gaze.
Flickers like a candle's blaze.
2
She triple-checks her alarms and traps.
Hush! Be silent! Her treasure naps!
Tin cans, pots, and pans set to rattle.
Trip a wire. Call to battle.
A maternal love to set afire!
This feral, teenaged drive: her prime desire!
3
Panic cold for over there...!
Nay. A shade. A shadow bare,
calling forth a gasp for air.
Wide awake, her chin trembles.
Her ribs quake.
Falling tears as rivulets snake.
No more silent thunder this life makes
. . .
ВИ ЧИТАЄТЕ
Bright Shadows 2: A Hinterlands Anthology
Наукова фантастикаI want my second anthology to be more user-friendly on Wattpad (TM). Hence, I'm reorganizing material from my first anthology and exploring some creative gaps. The front material is almost a writers and directors guide. While I'm launching a quality...
