Sestina: Halcyon’s Call in a Fractured Tomorrow
In the fractured world where rebellion calls,
The myth of halcyon peace is sought.
Sky-ships carve paths through electric storms,
And whispers of calm feel like dreams of old.
Soldiers march, eyes glazed with fervent rage,
Longing for rest in forbidden sanctuaries.
These broken lands lack sanctuaries,
Where silence blooms despite rebellion’s calls.
Instead, war's drumbeat fuels iron rage,
And only tales of halcyons are sought—
Birds who nested when the seas grew old,
Quieting the skies from endless storms.
Yet, what if in this world of metal storms,
A rogue faction guards such sanctuaries?
Led by a prophet wise beyond her years old,
She sends encrypted dreams and secret calls,
Invoking myths that power cannot halt—
Whispers of rest to soothe ancient rage.
They say she tamed her father's primal rage,
Turned his warships into fleetless storms.
Her followers, too, seek the peace long sought,
Where even rebels rest in sanctuaries,
Where broken souls answer to calmer calls,
Finding peace where halcyons sing of old.
But here, rebellion shapes the young and old,
Each fight twisting dreams into flames of rage.
The drones hunt whispers, jam forbidden calls,
Lest hope spark embers in restless storms.
Still, underground, in coded sanctuaries,
Children draw pictures of the peace they’ve sought.
One night, a drone finds what it long has sought:
A sanctuary with warriors and old,
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Shattered. Yet, amid rebels' rage,
The prophet stands, eyes wild as steel storms,
Laughing, for she knows the halcyon's call.
"Rebellion will never rest, but heed this call—
Within us all lies the calm we sought,
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