AN ODE TO GUNDAM WING
The dark rim of night eclipses the sun,
As great blue shadows fall,
But a shape, strangely different, reflects,
A great mock human form on the wall.
Visitors newly come to the Earth,
Five strangers filled with hope and fear,
They all are but children in their youth,
But so much older than their tender years.
The first was a hunter, emotionless and cold,
His mission set firm in his head,
On his mighty Wing he would fly,
Till he would be victorious or dead.
The next who came that fateful night,
Was a breed of a deadlier kind,
He shouldered his scythe, with a gleam in his eye,
And left only death and destruction behind.
The third took his flight, quiet and sad,
Long ago he had forgotten how to cry,
With impassive eyes he narrowed his sight,
And never asked for a reason or why.
The fourth had a milder, gentler soul,
He wished not one blood-drop to spill,
But for peoples freedom he would do his part,
Although it hurt in his heart to kill.
The last of the warriors was proud and strong,
For justice he bravely would fight,
To honor the one that he had loved and lost,
He called on his Dragon Fires might.
Together they enkindled a ring of fire,
As the stories and legends were told,
And blazed a path for freedom that night,
That united their hearts and souls.
FREEDOM FIGHTERS--Karen Hickman--October 2000