Soft green light

Upon the face of the pilot.

Gauges tell a story

Similar to life

Half full

Half empty

How much is left?

Fields and farms

Moving by as though

Avenger was the one standing still.

A grey smear

Eaten by the darkness.

Windows become mirrors

In which life is reflected,

Like the prophet’s cauldron

In which the future is foretold.

She will die.

But you didn’t need

A seer to tell you that.

The first for you.

One step closer to the frontline.

Avenger carries on

Splitting the dark with yellow eyes.

The pilot is tired now,

Almost one full turn around the sun.

Isn’t it time to put an end to the lie?

The incubus comes for your life every night.

To feed it’s need for power.

This could be your hour.

One last rage of the will.

If you can withstand this,

You can do anything.

Avenger turns into the wind,

Steel and iron

Creaking against the cold.

Strapped in and shooting towards the neon now,

Like an arrow from the

Corrupted bow of a forgotten and

Forsaken god,

Avenger lands with a new pilot

Ready for a new world.

Even before the engine has cooled,

Or the grey smokey outline has vanished,

A new plot has been plotted this night.


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