For my 'American Dragon' fic readers, not to worry, I'll have the next chapter up within the next couple of days.

For everyone else, hi. If you're a returning reader and you've read some of my stuff before, welcome back. If not, I'm Aubrey, and I like to write. Obviously.

So...this is a poem I wrote at 2 in the morning a few nights ago, and figured I better put it up.

Can you believe that in almost 8 months of loving Doctor Who, I never got around to watching 'The End of Time'? So, that happened a week ago, when I finally got the time to watch it. It was epic. Amazing. Now, I didn't like that David left, I hated it, but it was an amazing episode nonetheless.

This poem started out being about the Master and his madness within, but it ended up being a whole chronological poem about the End of Time.

Enjoy, and don't forget to review!


The End of Time

Drums pounding, pounding, pounding

In a never ending tune,

That four-beat rhythm

Beats so loud and clear and true.


Over and over again it beats

Its heartless sounding call,

The only one who hears them

Is a man who hears them all.


Some say he is out of his mind,

They say he might be mad,

And though these might be true,

Can he really be that bad?


He might be called a liar,

He might be called a freak,

He certainly can hear

Those four loud throbbing beats.


Looking into time,

When he was only eight,

That little boy was lost,

And so began his fate.


That single four-beat rhythm

Pulsing in his head,

Never stopping, never leaving,

Even when he went to bed.


He grew up with that tempo

Playing in his lonely mind,

Slowly, slowly going insane

Though he pretended he was fine.


And then he showed his colors,

The monster within unleashed,

He showed his face to the world,

The drums pounding without release.


He laughs as the world ends,

He brings the end of time,

And though there's one to stop him,

The clock begins to chime.


It's seems he's out of time

The Doctor of the Earth,

Who comes to save the people

And lead them to rebirth.


Then suddenly he's there,

A little bit too late,

For the war is over, the race is won,

And the Master lies in wait.


The Doctor tries to stop him,

And free the human race,

But the madman persists,

A gleeful smile lighting his face.


The drums are finally silent,

The Master then is dead,

That single four beat rhythm

Is no longer inside his head.


Eventually he wins,

The doctor heals the people,

But the triumph came at a price,

For he's sure his wounds are fatal.


He bids the lone companion with him

A sad and short goodbye,

Then leaves to go and tell the others

Before he goes to die.


He saved the married couple

From a shooter with his gun,

And a teenage boy from dying,

Returning to his mum.


He gives a lonely man

Some very odd dating advice,

Then visits a special young woman

Whose grandmother paid the price.


The very last stop he makes,

On his last trip of farewells,

He visits a young blonde girl

On whom his two hearts dwell.


And then to the door, the only doors

Of the little blue box he crawls,

The wonderful box of magic,

That takes him beyond the stars.


"I don't want to go!" he shouts

Just before he goes,

But soon enough it starts,

He's facing his final foe.


Bright tendrils surround him,

Shining as the sun,

And then the explosion occurs,

It's only just begun.


Soon enough the flames die down,

The process is complete,

And a completely new man stands there,

Standing on his own two feet.


The machine is crashing around him,

Though he probably hardly cares,

As he looks around bewildered

With a brand new face and hair.


And as he crashes down,

His magic box falling through the sky,

He shouts a prayer as he falls

"Geronimo!" he cries.

DISCLAIMER!: I don't own Doctor Who; I don't own the Doctor, the Master, or David Tennant ( I'm still negotiating rights about him with the BBC).