A New Weapon

A Luke poem.

A New Weapon

by obaona

A/N: Thanks and fault go to LianaMara for this one. :p  She told me to write a poem, I said that would be too hard for poor, un-poem-educated me, and she said, "Do it free verse!" And thus, here we are. :p Thanks for being persistent and then looking it over for me, Liana.


He'd forgotten
how quiet
it could be at night.

When he stood
inside walls, the wind had always been
a thing of sound.
Here the chill was silent,
the wind serenely moving the desert,
the vastness
not marred by the shattering,
moments of violence and survival.
He closed his eyes, the chill wind moving
around him, himself a break
to the unseen pattern.
The slashes of memory became real
once again,
the choking, horrific smell
suddenly vivid
once again.

He opened his eyes to the starlight,
his gaze upward in hopes
of peace,
where before there had been dreams.
He refused to dream now,
the pieces of hope
being rearranged
into nightmares.
Those were dark, undeniable,
but he could no more change them
than the pattern of the winds
slowly shaping the desert.
He, too, would be shaped.

As elegance?
The shadow
of a more civilized time.
Or something hard and jagged,
forceful and powerful,
overwhelming and alone.
That path
was before him in a yawning crevice,
the footholds becoming
less and
Neither had he wished.

He danced away
on the fractured path,
more graceful now
than he had ever been.
All would be,
in due time.
Now there was friendship,
and a rescue to be planned. Love to be played out
as action.
The dreams were nothing,
there was no mist on Tatooine.
The stars were
mere representations,
idols once held high.

True power was quiet
and slow,
the sand shifting a whole world.
Forgiveness was quiet.
Love was forgiveness.
In the walls where once
the wind had been loud,
that had been unspoken,
yet acted.
And remembered, now.

A new weapon had been forged.