Titans

This is the battlefield:

The void like an open mouth,

dotted with violent teeth.

It bites down –

on the planet,

on the starship,

on us.

Exploding teeth,

white and dazzlingly and deadly.

And we’re knocked into the void,

swished and spat forward.

It is a mouth of toxins and violence.

It is a minefield of interstellar explosives.

In our wake –

A planet like a chewed meal,

the pieces of it scattering in the dark.

It takes a final hit,

stands in defiance –

a rebel on a suicide mission,

stubborn and fighting –

and falls. Bursts

like a red balloon.

This is the battlefield

and the last refuge,

the stronghold of dirt and air,

is nothing but flame.