In the harrowing confines of space, pitched in battle against colossal warships and deadly fighter aces, faced with explosions and debris around every turn, the fighter pilot is a steel-nerved individual. They must be skilled to the finest degree, they must know their art, but most of all, they must know and trust the fighter that bears them. This bond is poetic in many ways, and I want you to convey those ways to me now.
Write a piece of poetry, six stanza minimum(though more are welcome), detailing your fighter piloting experiences and your relationship with the snub fighter that bears you. Are you the dominating master of the metallic beast before you? Do you feel a sense of love and ownership over your fine vessel?
Or, are you constantly in a paranoid fury about the heap of junk rattling apart beneath you?
Poetry, six stanza minimum, free verse
Send all submissions to [Log in to view e-mail addresses], any not sent here will be disregarded. Competition for the Corps Branch.
4th Level Crescents to 1st, 2nd, and 3rd. High participation(six entries or more) will see five bonus merit points to all participants.
Nobody has participated in this competition.