The Child Seer

This is a story and a metaphor

Closing door
Cause light to recede
Holding back
The dirty ragged
Blind girl
Who hissed and screamed
Her mind possessed
By a seer's soul.
Locked away
By frightened people
Who assumed knowledge
Of their cruelty.

Many seeked the seer
Many didn't think.
She was
The village lunatic
So no future
Was foretold
So no heroic
Figures gained
A page in history
Quests failed
Peopled died
People were borne.

Soon the seer
Became older
Than the dust with
She shared a cage.
Food's taste
Was unremembered.
Villagers forgot
She existed.
Soon the village
That had chained her
Was ruins
And she lonely.

Oh so lonely
A tortured prisoner
Of her own ravaged mind.
Her nails and hair
Were her only coat.
Skin was so
Chafed and bloody
That the porcelain
Was unseen.
Hair stretched
Hundreds of feet
Spun gold now matted wires.

Long yellow, ragged 
Scratched her 
oozing face.
Tongue licked 
oily lips.
Pearly white eyes 
A laugh came 
from her lips
Hystical and sobbing.
If one is alone
For a hundred decades
You start to become
Less human, more a
Hopeless shrieking ghost,
incapable of thought.

So in this
Delicate child's misery
Humanity was lost
And torment eternal
For this poor victim
Of chance
To be an everliving
Seer and madwoman.
Never experience
The beauty and wonder
Of living
Being a person
Not an rabid animal.

To never grow up,
To never gain friendship,
To never experience embrace
Of a mothers loving arms,
To never be protected
By a loving father,
To never be kissed
by a giggling boy,
Or just to never
Even be loved.
But instead to curl up,
And hope to die.
swimmerzo swimmerzo
13-15, F
Jul 9, 2012