Order 66

Just a poem about the clone trooper perspective in Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith over having to betray the Republic.

Guilt-ridden over  deeds vicariously through me,

Fear and loathing from the offspring to an imageless father.

The outstretched hands and hurt of betrayal all that we can see,

But how can we argue against it; we who don't even matter.

I am a shadow of my past purpose, broken.

We are legion, we carry the weight of burden.

We cannot break free of our genetic shackles.

I can't win any of these one-sided battles.

Rifles in hand we march through the broken hall,

Smoke and ash obscure the deeds of broken trusts.

Their resistance barely holds before the fall,

Young, old; we regret doing what's said that we must.

No remorse is allowed for those antagonized,

Even though it's felt through the hearts widespread.

Only we who can't disobey know they lied.

We who are the broad ax that severed the head.

I am a shadow of my past purpose, broken.

We are legion, we carry the weight of burden.

We cannot break free of our genetic shackles.

I can't win any of these one-sided battles.

Tears stain the inside of my helmet and visor,

Those memories will never leave; a web of deceit was weaved.

But I can never disobey the emperor.