An Augury from Old High Gallifreyan (read by Nine as he ran through someone's back garden)
One instance reminds you of the one before it. The first instance. The following instance. Another. All threaded through by monotonous similarity.
And then, the tiniest moments, all clustered together in their neat rows, ragged ends escaping, bundled up, but always their profusion trails off into the embers.
Then there’s the heart of the matter, seared, lined with scars, inscrutable now. You don’t know what to make of it. Is it worth it to gnaw at the dried out fibers for a hint of nourishment, a remembrance of savor?
At last there shines the glittering jewel, succulent reward for endurance. Maybe you're blind by now, a little sour, but hooked from the tumult of the depths and traded for a life -- if that’s it --
( ... )
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(read by Nine as he ran through someone's back garden)
One instance reminds you of the one before it.
The first instance.
The following instance.
Another. All threaded through
by monotonous similarity.
And then, the tiniest moments,
all clustered together
in their neat rows, ragged ends escaping,
bundled up, but always
their profusion trails off into the embers.
Then there’s the heart of the matter,
seared, lined with scars, inscrutable now.
You don’t know what to make of it.
Is it worth it to gnaw at the dried out fibers
for a hint of nourishment, a remembrance of savor?
At last there shines the glittering jewel,
succulent reward for endurance.
Maybe you're blind by now, a little sour,
but hooked from the tumult of the depths
and traded for a life -- if that’s it --
you’ll take it.
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