Choices

A poem for Captain Malcolm Reynolds (Firefly) What has he traded, and what has he won?

 Somewhere in the passing days

I stopped measuring in right and wrong

In the black of the ‘Verse

Such ideas lose their shine

Somewhere far below

In a world that doesn’t move

Good men die in sin,

Wicked men bask in the light.

The truth of both is polished away

By approved alterations

Of an entity that maintains control

Within my home which never settles

Polish has no place

 

Somewhere in the passing days

I stopped measuring in right and wrong

In the black of the ‘Verse

Upon waves of chaos

I have traded control

For Freedom