by Nick Gisburne
Emerging from a bleak, corrosive sea,
She rises, to a magical command.
A writhing mass, gelatinous, the She
Was born beyond the world we understand.
Ferociously intelligent, her kind
Had never thought to look, to see, so far.
Her precious gift, a vast, inventive mind,
Identified a paradise, a star.
A planet, blue, a race of natives, weak.
To one, a witless fool, she gave a key.
To travel, she convinced her slave to speak
The science of a spell. That man was me.
The She believes I move at her command,
But let her think it. This is what I planned.
