Ode to a Doktor

Link to article: Ode to a Doktor.

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Twas' past the last death,
Millennia so,
No man drew his last breath,
No man died to his foe,
But one thing was left,
One thing was left pure,
A man with hands deft,
And a goal of a cure,
In his quest he had failed,
And quietly stewed,
For years he wailed,
His hatred so brewed,
But one glorious day,
As infinite flowers bloomed,
He knelt down to pray,
Knowing that he was doomed,
The Doktor he cried,
Tears not of pain,
As the pestilence died,
His work was in vain,
And not a day later,
But twenty-four hours,
The work of creator,
The galactic superpowers,
Went out not with a whimper,
But with a bang,
And The Doktor did whisper,
As the universe sang.

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