Poets logo


A Sci-Fi Poem

By Conor MatthewsPublished about a year ago 2 min read

Dawn; blinds up and sun blazing,

It’s time to die, just another workday.

Dress up before the suit up,

Walk out with the others and make our way,

Down to the mess hall,

Eating our portions to throw up later.

Take the standard issue tabs,

Taste like gravy and mashed ‘taters.

Mornings and welcomes,

Chats about what we’re fishing for.

Secrets lost by agents,

And they’re only hearing this now; what a chore.

Commander calls out,

We shout back “here”!

Those who have gods pray,

Those who don’t have no fear.

We’ve done this for years now,

We’re the best cheap money can buy.

Suit up and get linked in,

Three, Two, One; Time to die.

The tranks shoot in,

Then comes the overdose.

Our hearts stop,

I’m a government ghost.

People always ask is it white,

Or is it dark and black?

Neither; it’s like falling asleep,

In the middle of a heart attack.

There are rainbows and oil slicks,

rippling past our eyes.

It’s like trying to make sense,

Of a world made of lies.

Imagine seeing shapes with no names,

Colours you’ve never known.

Describe the sound of spice,

Of the company of being alone.

Induced synaesthesia,

Enforced hallucination,

Exploring the borders of reality,

Defying Biblical explanation.

We are killed to explore Heaven,

Or whatever this place is called.

Surveying shipwrecks of souls,

While their passings are stalled.

You don’t have hands;

You make them with thought.

Thinking’s harder when you’re dead,

The line to life is threadbare and fraught.

Shape yourself and swim in existence,

A necronaut of matter.

Doing the impossible,

Ascending Jacob’s ladder.

We find the target,

A light of nothing.

We get to work,

But I hear something.

She calls my name again,

Like she’s done before.

A persistent torturous call,

Like that of Lenore.

I can hear it still,

And wish I was with it now.

But I am on contract,

For I ran afoul.

The job was done,

And we were reborn.

In tears I relived again,

A common side effect; we were forewarned.

But I wish to die for good,

And be with her after my life.

But until I repay my debts,

I’ll live forever without my wife.

performance poetryfact or fiction

About the Creator

Conor Matthews

Writer. Opinions are my own. https://ko-fi.com/conormatthews

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights


There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.