The Lone Warrior

Cathriona Lafferty's picture


There I was, sitting in a corner of the cold dusty room
The dusk falling, the angry clouds gathering
Casting shadows across the sky;
Laying in wait to unleash their torment
As the sun goes down
And the moon rises to signify their awakening.
To be sure, I was afraid; though not becoming of me;
Being alone, in violent weather
And dangerously at the... mercy of my imagination,
Fighting the images arising out of nowhere,
Raising, as from death, with the first clap of thunder...
I tentatively edge towards the window, instinctively clutching at my stomach,
As a spasm of pain rips through, an anguished cry escapes my mouth.
I fall to the floor, suddenly overcome with agony;
Yet a buzzing noise in my mind insists that I must plough onward
Like the stubborn ox that I am.
I seem to have passed out for a time, as I awake suddenly
I see a flashing fork of white before my eyes, as I lay on the floor.
It sucks me into its abyss and I am falling once more 
Then I land in confusion, shock and... horror.
Around me, there are bushes and burned grass.
A wild cat is climbing a tree, hunting an attractive, fat bird
That has known festive times and vanity...
I am that bird. 
The cat is suddenly upon me, flashing it's sharp needle teeth
In the dark, dusty room I awake once more, to find myself kneeling on the window sill;
The need to escape still burning furiously within me.
I have scratch marks on my neck... a remnant of the biting pins...
Or was it I who did it?
Another clap of thunder and I am hurled into a fog of images:
All those other times, those other attacks, those other nightmares
Spark recognition within me.
Before the whooshing wind blows it away
I grab hold of it... Then
As the storm clears, for the first time
I begin to see through the mist.

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