The h2g2 Poem
Created | Updated Apr 1, 2009
Past Over
They came to get him, as they had promised.
When the long agony was over,
They woke him.
Kind men in white washed away the blood,
Healed him, gave him his strength back,
Gave him fresh clothing.
He could not remember the pain – this was a blessing.
Strong men in white unlocked his prison,
Set him free into the world again.
He blinked, startled, in the early dawn.
He stood there, wondering.
Touched his face in amazement at the sensation of flesh upon flesh,
Saw the light,
Smelt the sweetness of morning air untainted by the rank odour of captivity.
Time had ceased to mean anything to him:
He did not know how long he wandered, caressing trees,
Thrilled by the texture of bark,
Marvelling at the veined leaf, and the worm that crawled upon it.
He saw the woman crouched by a stone, weeping,
Her face half–obscured by her veil,
Her straight, dark hair peeping out from under the coarse cloth.
A stirring of forgotten feeling made him find his voice.
'Why are you crying, ma'am?' he asked, his vocal chords still raw, the sound rasping.
She turned, looked up, an expression of anguish and incomprehension.
'They've taken his body away, I don't know where to mourn.'
As if a gate had opened in his mind, memory came flooding:
Bright days of laughter, shared food,
Long starlit nights, companionship, ideas...
He cleared his throat. 'Mary,' he said.
And watched her eyes widen, the tears dry in an instant –
And her look turn from grief to...
Awe. Admiration.
She fell to her knees, seeing only the miracle.
And then at last he understood
What he had sacrificed.
Poetry by Various Contributors
