Just a random poem I made up last week while trying to go to sleep...
The hobbled old healer sat in his tent,
Waiting for another visitor to come and consent
To a healing by a travelling old man,
Who was nothing more to many than some well-used bedpan.
As he was waiting, a young woman stepped in;
Her beauty was astounding, no more than a maiden;
And she sat in the chair opposite him with a sigh
With which he asked her 'Why?'
'Why are you here, young one? You seem not in pain
From any unknown illness or some form of disdain;
Tell me, child, what ails you so?
A broken nail? A simple stubbed toe?'
The last one was in jest, but the young girl simply sighed,
'Old man, you could not know, the pain I feel inside;
For what ails me is nothing more than a heart torn asunder
By twin storms of lightning and thunder;
If you truly wish to heal me, then hear what I say
Nothing more I wish, than anything, this day...
How do I start? Well, let me see;
I was married to a man who hates me;
But it is mutual, I hate him as well.
However, there is more to tell...
I am in love with another, who is kinder toward me...
However, I dare not see him, at my husband's jealousy.
I'm torn between them, the forced love and the true...
It is impossible for my heart to decide between the two.
Is it not a sin to be wedded to one and in love with another?
How is it possible that I become someone else's lover?
I cannot find any way to get out of this mess...
So, please, help me, kind sir, for I must confess...
I don't know any way but this!'
She sank back into her chair with a groan
After her speech he sat as if made of stone
Some minutes passed before he spoke,
And even then, it was with a slight hint of joke:
'Child, you are so queer!
To think that the world is under one slim veneer!
If you have no objections, I might just say
That you should leave the horror later this day!'
The girl sat there thoughtfully twirling her hair;
Until she stood up, and with a realized air,
Exclaimed, 'I've got it! Thank you, Monsieur!'
And she rushed out of the tent leaving him quite unsure
She knew she was doing right.
The young woman, later that night,
Quit her husband and took rapid flight
To her young lover's home,
Where she would be always known
As the woman who was torn by the Storm.
View User's Journal
I don't know.
This thing is whatever I need it to be at the time.
Currently it's a write-out-my-stream-of-consciousness-to-make-myself-feel-better place.
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Fishy fishy.
Bloop bloop.
Bloop bloop.
User Comments: [3] [add]
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Veiruu Community Member 
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Who is Puffer Fish
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User Comments: [3] [add]
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Great job! It's a very cool story; I think there could be more to it, but this is still awesome as is. Keep up the good work.