Orbit: Contact Incident 117

The sleeping trooper stirs,
a slow syrupy flow
through plastic tube,
Eyes adjust to harsh, cold, blue
Skewed shadows invoke
foggy memories
of imagined fears.
The stark metal slab
stiff stirring bones,
yet does not comfort.
Lying among a company of companions,
anticipation lingers in stale air
as a rising mummer of quiet
signals the end
of a long journey.
What lays ahead,
looms dauntingly.
On the sickly green orb
ancient intelligence awakes,
and knows.

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4 Responses to “Orbit: Contact Incident 117

  1. Dennis the Vizsla Says:

    Cool! Makes me think of the classic SF epic “A Fire Upon The Deep”.

  2. The Necromancer Says:

    DtV: Merci. I don’t know “A Fire Upon the Deep”, but I feel like I should. Who wrote it? When I penned this poem, about 10 years ago now, I was thinking of a synthesis between Heinlein’s Starship Troopers and H.P. Lovecraft. Found it in an old notebook and it still had some spirit, so I reproduced it here…

  3. Skybluepink Says:

    I love it, reminds me of Moon.

  4. The Necromancer Says:

    Thanks! I presume you mean “In the…” ;)

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