The Words Unsaid

My Little Soldier

My Little Soldier

Christine Summer

In the dark corners I sat,

Where I lie is a cold mat,

Every block angrily spat,

Of world unknown full of wrath.

I wondered what’s beyond,

Thinking of where I’d be bound,

Hearing but there’s no sound,

Silent beats of my hearts pound.

Is it greener, I wonder?

Or just a little bit blander?

Would it be colder out there?

Or it’d be warmer yonder?

A small crack peeked from a crevice,

Where a small light’s all it’d service,

A single beam that I’d took no notice,

And not until I took in its promise.

It grew to be a big and mighty hole,

Where I could pass on whole,

I crawled out but stuck my soles,

Scared but determinedly pulled.

Freedom! I screamed at last,

A single tear on my cheek passed,

Hope and dreams within grasp,

My heart’s rejoicing but still aghast.

Before me stood a pebbled road,

Where every bend is a big goad,

Inside I fretted what it bode,

Aware that I’m just a small node.

Slowly, I walked on every pebble,

Rocks as sharp as every tremble,

Resolutions seems so feeble,

Each step I start to stumble.

Fell with disappointment,

Hopes were disillusionment,

Faith was filled with torment,

As though time froze a moment.

Should I go on? I asked thou,

What is in here and now?

If ever chance equals a bow,

If why quickly changes to how?

Should I bleed for you, stranger?

Feel the filmy liquid of my silent anger,

As it seeps into, a sunken reminder,

Of how I was confined by a lost creeper.

Every stab of wound, unaffected,

Oh, broken soldier quickly wilted,

Should you believe ‘tis fated?

That you die every lie created?

So, come now, little one,

Sleep in my arms, the deed is done,

It’ll be over as soon as it started, no fun,

But at least you’re alive under my sun.

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I’m in a crossroads where each choice leads to the ultimate path to my destruction.

Christine.

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