Six Canisters and a Beginning

Thu, 10/25/2018 - 20:22 -- EALs

In a decade past, in a distant land, 

in a book in the hands of starstruck child,

six canisters washed ashore on the golden sand.

And, to fight against the vicious wilds,

strode six heroes from those silver pods. 

 

Breathlessly, the child read and read, 

as they wandered far and wide,

Through shadow-marred land they forged ahead,

inspiring people to strive alongside

the heroes from the silver pods. 

 

Their island home's dark mysteries 

were forced into the light,

uncovering forgotten histories 

through the quest, for safety in the night,

of those heroes from the silver pods. 

 

Whatever the danger, whatever the cost,

they kept up the good fight still,

pushing on no matter who they lost.

They were legends made by force of will, 

those heroes from the silver pods.

 

And with sparkling eyes the child saw,

in the mind of of his younger years,

the strength from beating his own flaws

and overcoming fears

through those heroes from the silver pods.

Now I sit, somewhat older now, 

with pencil clutched in hand, 

and dream with furrowed brow

of distant worlds and final stands

inspired by those heroes from their silver pods.

 

I am a writer now, with stories of my own to steep in lore,

and a new generation of warriors, to struggle for right,

as that long ago six did once before, 

following the ideals of the fight

of those heroes from the silver pods.

And above all else I wish to be 

what the man who wrote those stories was to me

whose tales did my imagination ignite

as I read far too long into the night

of six heroes who strode from silver pods 

and inspired me to dream no matter the odds.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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