KnightravenStudios

Ashley Williams stepped out of the elevator on the SSV Normandy while tying her hair into a regulation bun. She hadn’t been able to sleep, but at two thirty six in the morning AST, there was only so much to occupy her time. After cleaning her guns again, and re-organizing her locker, she had resigned to go to the mess. No one would be up anyway and maybe a glass of milk would help her sleep. She wasn’t sure how milk and sleep were correlated, but after a restless evening like hers, she was willing to try anything. What she didn’t expect was to turn the corner and see Commander Shepard. Ashley froze. At first, out of fear of

They called me commander They named me theirs They gave me a rank They sentenced my years They never pretended They did it for me It was always for them To strip my identity Once in blue camo Then orange and black They offered me glory But with no kindness or tact "You must do this" "You are our hope" They spoke to my armor My gun, and my scope My name was a word For the wall they hid behind It held no meaning Except to title their design I stand between Reapers The dark, and the light Protecting what they love When they were too stricken with fright But what I love? They made me leave it to stand Alone in the night

When skies flash and dark tides boil, And the land’s set all aflame, I’ll close my eyes and face the morrow, To be a soldier born again. Through shattered rock and broken stone, Through vacant, barren squares, A curse upon who struggles on, For on them the burden bares. With bloody lip and battered bone, The human treks the sand, A victim to the past, not present, Desolation of the land. Those that find are left behind, Can thank the stars they are. But worser things than deathly sleep Leave a different kind of scar. If and when the 'end time' comes For the untimely task to take, A head held high, a glimpse of sky Can freedom