Outcasts United

January 17, 2015

Outcasts United loki by_april15

There was once an entity
And everything it did, seemingly, was causing a calamity.
But the poor thing had no power…
If he could have, he would have the cause locked away in the most remote tower.
For he wanted no harm to anything, yet harm was his shadow,
Stuck to him, keeping him locked in a lonely empty meadow…
Everywhere he went, being perceived a scarecrow.
But its exile would soon be over
And the shadow would turn itself into a four leaf clover.
One night, moping over a small cold camp flame,
The being had a visitor.
Not a hunter, not a persecutor,
But a kindred spirit, wounded by people who know nothing else but fear…
Knew nothing of its nature and through its leg had fixed a spear.
Unable to be the leader of the pack, he was welcome nevermore,
And darkness over it had cast its lore.
“May I sit by your side and rest?
I promise no harm will come, won’t be any sort of pest.”
“Yes, you may, fellow outcast and traveler.
And here’s my blanket, take it for your warmth and cover.
Take this bowl and drink,
Take as much as you need to part you from death’s brink.”
“But you have so little; what about you and your nurturing?”
“Never mind me, I’ll last ’till morning.”
As the wounded soul quenched its hunger,
Everything stood in silence and peace;
The smell of fresh grass and burnt wood, leaves flowing in the breeze
No one yelling “Monster! War monger!”
When a new day was upon them,
The sun shining brighter than it had ever been,
The two travelers were side by side,
Happy and proud that darkness and misery had gone to hide.
Nothing broke their stroll,
Not even the cruel passers-by:
Men smugly grinning and cursing,
The women shocked, frozen, running and yelling “Run! Run! Oh, my!”
The world meant nothing to them,
Their partnership was an unbreakable diamond gem,
Able to stand against the despicable
To fend off the cowardly men and their wretchedness,
To fend off what would separate them, always accompanied by trust, love and tenderness.
Thus, a friendship was born, one that would the weight and power of countless mountains bear and harness.

by Vlad-Ovidiu Adam

Image source: batosail

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