I’m glad you have posted this here as well as at Deviant. Otherwise I would never have seen it. I keep coming back to it, and I don’t exactly know why. I dislike poetry as a genre. Particularly Klingon poetry, which all begins to look alike very, very quickly. Unless it is some combination of raunchy, rhyming, and scathingly satirical, I do my best to avoid it. Color me philistine and proud of it.
This warrior is the only one I’ve ever seen who had a genuinely happy life. She lived, loved, and died with enthusiasm. No regrets, nothing wasted, and her death was a successful and meaningful sacrifice. She didn’t die just because Klingons are supposed to want to die. The entire poem exhibits a distinct lack of bluster, braggadocio, and BS in favor of an *honesty* I have only seen once, in Faye’s “Death Song”.
I appreciate the warrior becoming a moon spirit, watching over her home forever. It builds upon the motif of “the naked stars, each one remembering,” even/especially when no one else does. It’s a concept I have taken to heart over the years but have never successfully been able to incorporate into my own writings.