Tuesday, 16 December 2008

the lost child

The wall is crumbling,
Defence receding,
Until a child appears,
Lost and confused
Amongst all the movement surrounding her,
That only she can see.
To the unknowing observer,
She is all alone in an ancient ruin,
Little light brown pigtails twisting
As she spins around on the spot,
Looking for a safer place than here.
Blue eyes flick over each ruined wall,
Until suddenly, she sees something.
Her eyes light up and she smiles:
There is someone out there,
Blurred, but recognisable:
Someone she trusts to keep her safe.
She begins to totter
Over the uneven ground towards them,
But their smile is reduced to a sad neutrality
As they begin to fade into non-existence.
The little girl begins to run towards them,
Holding one arm out,
Trying to catch them before they're gone.
Too late.
She reaches them right as they disappear entirely,
And she is once again in the centre of the ruins - they seem to go on forever.
She looks around once more,
Her legs give way and drops to the floor.
Silently, a fat tear begins to form.
It spills over her eyelashes
And rolls down one cheek.
Softly, she begins to cry,
Realising that she does not know
Where she is,
Or if anyone can find her.


  1. sometimes the greatest things in life do not lie in the distance for they are the flowers that grow beside your feet.

    Its when we run into the distance that we finally realize that what we've been looking for was beside us the whole time, and we weep for what we have lost, not realizing the flowers that continue to grow beside our feet.

  2. She tries to speak, but there is no-one listening.
    She cannot run and cannot hide, simply because there is nothing to run from.
    Or, rather, there is nothing.
    In the crumbled ruins, she is on her knees.
    She crawls forward, seeking something.
    She cannot escape.
    For none can escape from themselves.

    A sudden cracking.
    A tree bursts through the barren earth like the eruption of a hidden volcano.
    She stands, and calmly walks to it.
    She grabs onto it, but the stubborn oak is too big for her arms to reach around.
    She weeps into its trunk, and the branches hold her.
    "Thank you. You came back."

  3. haha nice. not really how i'd have put it, but its good nonetheless. :)

  4. Well I kind of took the theme and ran with it, but I think yours was much better. It probably means a lot more to you though, because it's your story which I have cruelly stolen, and that's why yours has so much more passion. It actually made me cry. As opposed to mine, which had a tree. But hey, that's the way the cookie crumbles. Do cookies crumble? I thought they snapped. I have never tried though. I might try that some time soon. There we go. Something to do. Thanks Liv!