Doctor Who Poetry (Volume I)

The Magestic Tale (Of a Mad Man in a Box)

Held captive in a world of lies;

We go seeking our own demise,

With stoic hearts, callous minds and iron-clad eyes.

Seeing some, yet revealing none.

Loving none, yet seeking attraction,

Wishing for the soothing distraction.

But there we walk, up to our thrones.

Unknowing to the still knife close by,

Ready to slit your throat with a single lie.

We all go looking for our demise,

Yet try and try to live a hundred lives.

Caught up in our world of lies.

Wisking us away to a far darker realm,

Hidden by laughter and acts of kindness,

Unknown to who stands at the helm,

Sowing lies through our acts of blindness,

We put our fate in the hands of a mad man,

Mysterious yet burdened by unseen sorrow,

He cannot travel without a companion,

Flinging himself at the tomorrow.

We fall in love, though we know it is not right,

That the only thing to come of it is a harrowing sight.

Some have left, not knowing what could have been.

Some have found another, to share the burden of places unseen.

And some,

Not many,

But, some have died.

For him. For the magic he holds that captivate us into a world of dreams.

Showing us all of time and much more that could have been gleamed.

And though he may not see, he has saved many,

From the grip of the enemy.

The majestic tale of a mad man in a box,

A story that will never end.