Halo poem by me. Inspired by Robert Louis Stevenson’s ‘Foreign Lands’.
Holed up in Outpost 3,
Who should stand in infamy?
I held my rifle with both my hands,
And stared across on Alien lands.
I saw the nearest outpost fry,
A silent sentinel before the cry.
A guard to havens safe and more,
That hid behind a shielded wall.
I saw the sweeping vessel pass,
Before reducing all to glass;
The dusty fires go up and down
With people stranded in the town.
If I could find a spartan 3
A chance to survive I could see,
To where the Navy makes a stand
Beyond the harshness of this land.
But I am stranded and alone,
To dwell upon my cursed throne,
Where all the dead things come alive…
But let’s not spoil Halo 5.
