Yearning for Antag

[The137]

In the expanse of Paradise's sprawling domain,

Where engineers labour with tools and strain,

And medics tend to the wounded and ailing,

Amidst the hum of comms and constant detailing.

 

A round begins, two hours to fill,

With hidden agendas waiting to thrill.

Whispers of schemes within the crew,

Secrets carried by the syndicate's chosen few.

 

Amid the crew, hopeful hearts aspire,

Yearning for the roles that ignite the fire,

To break from routine, to wear the rogue's guise,

And tread the path where deception lies.

 

Yet for most, anticipation fades,

As the same faces parade their charades.

Jimmy Lim, Simon McShain, and Adam Smith,

Masters of intrigue, skilled in myth.

 

They slip into shadows with cunning art,

While others yearn for a villain's part.

To shape-shift like a changeling's guise,

Or wield the dark glare of a vampire's eyes.

 

But fate, it seems, favours the chosen few,

Leaving the rest to yearn for a chance anew,

In Paradise's realm, where shadows play,

Where hope flickers in the cosmic array.