The exercise:
Write a four line poem about: confessions.
Blimey, only five stanzas left after this one... I should really plot the rest of this thing out.
Mine:
Hid beneath his bed The Master wrote quickly,
Leaving him no room for thought.
He laid bare all of his sins, seeking Mercy
For the havoc he had wrought.
2 comments:
Aha, so this is the list the Master is writing now! Well, that makes more sense that my belief that he was going to have a spare homicidal robot in a cupboard somewhere, just in case the other three went wrong....
A small point, but I believe Mercy got killed recently? Someone should tell the Master :)
Confessions
Its voice is like the breaking surf confess-
-ing drowning sailors, saying Old Eno-
-chian with vowels slightly rounded, o-
-p’ning portals to the Robot’s world. Grey mist
Greg - yeah, I suspect that would have been the more pragmatic approach.
Also... I prefer to say that the world is currently between Mercies. Unfortunate timing for The Master, is all.
Plus I could not resist the reference, given the timing of what's going on in your tale.
I... am not sure that I would want to hear that voice. Ever.
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