The Confession

Strange the timing seems for a life was required
and a life is what was taken.
The deed unreal was done,
but the child was not ready, not ready at all.

Seemingly lost from the confines of his mind,
the image could not be mislaid completely.
He knew that they were honest,
reasonable people who lived in this town…
…yet unknowingly they did the worst they could to him.

There was a sibling, older I think,
not easily placed, thus split up they were to be.
How this child came to rest in the stream of a gutter,
unknown to me it be.

A nosebleed of fright lit his chin as seen by the light of the full moon.

A kingdom now lost, awaits the return of its heir,
yet he knows nothing of this…
…for deathly quakes had rumbled to town and smothered all his memories.

He could not remember.
Not much in any case, I think he should not have too either.
It is best forgotten and never thought of more,
for he was headed to foster-care.

I am not sure, his mother – she must have died,
the father they could not find and…
…a continual string of foster parents would try to console his grief.

An age after another and the memories returned,
now in bright light all is made clear.
For that child with bloodied nose is known to me, sitting in the gutter.

Almost stark naked and fending of vermin nibbling on his feet.
This boy is known to me. Old before his time, his grief has aged him…
…has aged me, for I am that boy and vengeance can’t be done onto me.