THE SAINT INSIDE THE SINNER

The little boy who lives beyond the old mans eyes

Could look from behind his iron barred, curtainless window

And somehow he could realise

That for the rest of his pure as driven snow white life

He would be imprisoned in this old ruined body

This old ruined cell

In this old ruined criminally insane home

For the criminally insane

But for the errors of an err’d man

The boy could still be as free as he was then

In a time locked in memory

Or at least a time when the old man remembered him.

For the old man had met the boy

Though it was many years ago.

The boy however had never met the old man

Though he surely would in time to come.

The old man had other memories

Like those of his darling Rosa

Wife of one, friend of many

Eyes clear blue as rock pools

Skin smooth and sunny pink as peaches

Hair as golden red as an orchard sunset…

…and memories of how he

In violent rage and temper had left her.

Eyes black as jet stone

Skin cold as ice

Neck red as blood

Heart dead as night

The young boy would one day share these memories

eventually

And all the old man can do is wait

And pray

That he can somehow prevent him

Reviews

[emmajoy]

A sadness runs all the way from start to finish in this post, yet it's so finely written it gasps the ending and, the reader realises how fate plays can play such a cruel, cruel hand. What a tragic finale and, what an impossibility. Your imagination conjurs such extraordinary thoughts, your skill lays them out for your reviewers to wonder at.

[pjbaker]

thought provoking

[mark slade]

it flows very well. nice touches.

[Marie]

This is a clever, touching story.