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BLUE SUN ROOM FAN FICTION - DRAMA
A poem from the perspective of one of the "survivors" of the Battle of Serenity Valley based on a deleted scene from the pilot episode of Firefly.
CATEGORY: FICTION TIMES READ: 1101 RATING: 9 SERIES: FIREFLY
Here we stood and here we lie
Here we Browncoats lived to die
In a green valley under a blue sky
That turned black with fire, then red ran dry
Over the scarred rocks of Serenity Valley.
Here we Browncoats made our stand
Here we gave our lives for this land
Here we pushed into Alliance’s hands
And waved a fist with a good “Gorram!”
On the mile-wide fields of Serenity Valley.
The Alliance said they’d walk right through here
Put down us Browncoats when we get near
We choked them with those words, ya hear?
So what in the Verse did we have to fear?
In the hills and dales of Serenity Valley.
At first, we sent them purple-bellies packing
At first…then the bodies we started stacking
Using friends for cover, with gunfire cracking,
Wounded moaning and bleeding, our courage lacking
In the cool streams and creeks of Serenity Valley.
Faster and faster, everyone started in dying.
The volunteers, the enlisted, the officers shouting
Out orders that no could hear, nor trying.
Only the Sarge kept us alive, kept us fighting
In the meat-grinder that was Serenity Valley
By the end of that battle, four hundred remained
By the end, four hundred were barely sane.
The Sarge made us stay together through the pain
Though both sides had really nothing left to gain
Of what was left in Serenity Valley
But then, they left us. Both sides left us.
Left us wallowing in our own puss.
Seven days they left us to die and moan and cuss
The ruttin’ high and mighties talked, forgetting us
In the blood-soaked fields of Serenity Valley
By the end of that week, only a hundred fifty lived.
By the end of that week, survival was ad libbed.
History is written by the victors, so factual and glibbed
No one knows, truly, how short-lived
The blood bath was in Serenity Valley.
Mercy, forgiveness, trust… those get left behind
Like the friends on the field you find.
Dying or dead. Deaf or maybe blind.
Shakin them, lookin for, hopin for a sign.
But they all get left in Serenity Valley.
You can never truly leave there. You simply cease.
You live through that and life becomes something you lease.
The best you can do is learn to live there. Maybe in peace.
And your life becomes little more than a conversation piece.
But we will never leave…
… our Serenity Valley
Saturday, July 3, 2010 4:02 PM
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