Destroyer's Edge

The Falcon slid across the floor, Its frame worn thin by make-believe war. Turrets spun by a guiding hand, Dodging lamps and distant stands. Endor rose beneath the shelf, Where bunkers crumbled on their own. The fleet's still fast enough for you, Loose hands fly straight through fading skies. A little banged up, but pulling through— We're all clear, kid—let's make it fly. Walkers marched on shag carpet plains, Crushing worlds we built again. The compactor pressed from every side, Spinning Trash where heroes hide. Desert winds across brown sheets, Where Jabba plots and Rancors creep. The fleet's still fast enough for you, Loose hands fly straight through fading skies. A little banged up, but pulling through— We're all clear, kid—let's make it fly. Cantinas hummed in plastic tones, X-wings soared through ranks of clones. The Rebel fleet, packed edge to edge, Held the dreams we couldn't hedge. We held the star destroyer's edge 5 hunters gathered across it's bridge. The galaxy sprawled out kitchen tile, Lost pieces return as we reconcile The sets may fade, but stories bloom, In quiet corners of the room. And though the fleet may gather dust, Their echoes rise and stay with us.