You love an enigma
the man who is not his exterior
and touch the young face that holds
the time lord interior.

He’s the hardest equation
you may ever try to learn.
You gain only a fraction, not a whole;
you watch his eyes as they burn.

The same whom you embrace
and babbles about inconsequential things,
is the avenging angel
whose very presence terror brings.

You journey by his side, gleaning
but a glimpse of all he might be.
You love the being
who is not the face that you see.

He carries the burden of ages,
the weight of knowing.
He tries to hide
what he is not showing.

He talks of laws you do not comprehend,
full of ancient grief,
you are left with ‘’ Why?’’
empty wonder and disbelief.

He is the last of time lords.
He has passed through flame and trials.
You step into the blue box.
He looks at you and smiles.