I feel the need to kneel; my feet collapse.
They’ve heard my struggle and they hesitate.
A shadow moves—an animal, perhaps—
a biped, it would seem. Oh, this is great.
What is its role? Which way the story goes?
Is this the end or more complexity?
Will it reveal my daughter to her foes?
Or was it sent by One to set me free?
The creature, coming closer, shows its face:
a human, but it has not been inside.
Its wretched visage complements this place.
Like what we see when one of us has died.
And yet, unlike the others of its kind,
it has a certain dignity and grace.
The insiders just stagger as though blind.
I’ve never seen one from the outside race.
It pauses for a moment, crouching low,
and now it races for my useless limb.
It knows I can’t attack it. Where’d it go?
It found my blind spot, and the light is dim.
I stand here as the dirty little pest
does wicked things that I cannot prevent,
but somehow I feel this works out the best.
I’ll leave to One to work out what that meant.
©2010 Louis A. Merrimac
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