BLADE


Once upon a lonesome cry, a child was given away....sold and tortured...beaten and forgotten....defenseless and cold he lay....drenched in the morning dew. The high grass gave little protection from the numbing cold...rain, ice, sleet or snow....he knew not of which it was...or whether it was any of them. Perhaps the delerium had kicked in...and begun to devour his sanity....Sixteen years a boy he had become...motherless..fatherless...just a slave. Slave to his own docile character...slave to all that he once trusted....believed in...sought comfort from. Somewhere deep inside himself he found warmth...but it did little to ease the rigid pain of knowing that he could no longer save his outer shell. Knowing that his mind... and possibly his soul was next...he had fled. Not out of hate, or fear. But of emptiness......void of all that he read about...saw in pictures, and heard the elders of the camp speak about. He knew nothign of women..save for the pictures in magazines...but those failed him any interest..it was not the female race that he desired...no...he was not so superficial to think that life was nothing without a counterpart of some kind...be it friend...family..lover...He had a hunger...for something more. Was it religious? Knowledge?....what IT was...he was unsure of...but he knew that he wanted it...even if he was to die out in the elements in an attempt to discover it.............