Narrative Dinobot Poem
By: Black Dino
A lone warrior stands
overlooking a valley,
battleworn and cryptic, sword drawn.
An enemy's minions he fights ferociously,
without a drop of sympathy for them.
They seek to commit genocide on a race,
not yet developed to know their danger.
He stands now overshadowed by the enemy himself,
lit from behind by the early dusk sun.
The warrior stands with a club made of roots,
having lost his sword.
He is knocked back after striking, and mocked.
"A stick, Really, now! What can you possibly do?"
Almost silently and with great effort and contempt,
the warrior answers; "Improvise."
Swinging the club down on a pointed stalagmite-like stone,
making a primitive hammer.
Staggering forward, the warrior brings the hammer down in an arc,
slamming the enemy in the chest, knocking a golden disk from him.
The lone warrior catches it like a flipped coin in both hands, and green fire
shoots from his eyes as he howls in victory and release,
shattering the relic.
He topples to the ground, he and his enemy, and soon his allies surround him, grieving.
"Tell my tale to those who ask." He says, "Tell it truly.
The ill deeds, along with the good, and let me be judged accordingly. The rest,
is silence." He sighs with his last breath.
His form goes limp, his essence leaving for the afterlife of his faith.
His comrades salute him, burn his dead body, and the tale is told...
But not finished; A single aborigine man grunts in awe at the hammer.
He hits a hard fruit with it, and it splits, revealing the sweet innards.
A snake coils for a strike, the anthropoid gasps, and strikes it first.
The snake falls dead, the caveman grunts in joy, then howls in victory,
a howl that echoes even among the stars where a single nova blinks once,
and goes out
forever....