Re: The TARDIS lands the Doctor and companons in a creepy garden now available at nightcafe.studio

THE DOCTOR: A POEM.
 
Across the stars, through silent void,
A song of time is still employed.
A name unspoken, just “The Doctor”
A friend, a storm, a cosmic author.
 
From Gallifrey, where Time Lords reigned,
With minds like fire and souls unchained,
He left their halls of red and gold,
To walk the dark, to break the mold.
 
A madman with a box that sings,
Of swirling stars and ancient kings,
He dances through eternity,
With hearts of hope and mystery.
 
He’s watched the rise, he’s seen the fall,
Of empires vast and creatures small.
He’s fought the silence, faced the flood,
And wrote his story out in blood.
 
The Time Lords once, so cold and wise,
With judgment deep behind their eyes,
Yet when their pride turned skies to flame,
He bore the cost, he took the blame.
 
He saves the world with wit, not guns,
With clever plans and clever runs.
He speaks of peace, yet walks through war,
A lonely god, forever more.
 
And still he laughs, and still he cries,
A child of time who never dies.
For every face he leaves behind,
Another grows, another mind.
 
But in his core one truth will cling,
That kindness is the bravest thing.
A Time Lord, yes, but something more:
A Doctor, knocking on your door.