Prompt 2

Darkest darkness of bitterness harkens
Power is not enough to replace a home.
No amount of death or destructions is sufficient,
To ease a life of eternal wandering.

Living life by the thrust of a knife,
The edge of a blade or blaster bolts sprayed,
The soul longs for a place to rest,
To put the darkness to rest.

Like a mantle worn over the shoulders,
Darkness weighs upon the back,
Like stones hewn from a quarry,
Break them instead of being broken.

Darkness can be set aside,
To wait for another day,
To be lifted once again as the world intrudes,
Upon the home and hearth.

There was once a hutt named Jist
Who had a thing for a playlist,
he liked to sing,
even if it did ring,
like the sound of a little miss priss

Oh Rosy Cheeked Lover
How your scales set my heart aflutter

with crimson stained tines
of a tail serpentine

the blood of our enemies makes me sputter

Prompt Chosen: Soldiers on your side of the conflict are pinned down under fire from an unknown marksman with a superior position. The battlefield is his killing field and his ridge is shielded by a wall of rock serving as his cover. Beneath him, however, blinks the telltale signs of a console—rigged to blow the ridge when activated. Whether through activating the explosives or removing the threat by some other means, your soldiers are depending on you to see the field secured for safe passage.