A boy was born one day
So many years ago.
He was different,
Of the likes which the world has
Never seen before.
He grow up into childhood
Where he was lonely
For he didn't have a voice.
The parents felt sad
For he was their ownly son
And wished him to be perfect
In any way possible.
They prayed to the gods
For him to be given a voice.
But the gods came down one day
And declared his prophecy
That he was born with the voice of chaos
That if he were to speak only madness and war
Would be in his wake
And the gods claimed to have removed his voice
Giving it to Echo to protect
For all of mankind and the childs sake.
The parents however disagreed,
They felt that the gods were making excuses
That the child should have his voice
And sought out for a witch.
The witch did this for free
And the parents were only too glad.
The child began to speak and to be
Set free from his voiceless haven.
For you see,
The child was happy and content without a voice.
Life was simple and good to him.
Then he had a voice
And the years passed,
The family struggled
For when ever he opened his mouth
And spoke the house would shake
With war between the parents and sisters.
All arguing and angered at each other
Confused to were it all was rooted and blaming each other
For who started all of the fighting.
The boy was utterly alone
He lost all his possible friends to his
Cursed voice, leaving a void that none could fill.
One night, the child got the sowing needle
And some thread and proceeded to sow his
No more could he speak,
His parents finding him the next morning
And went to work opening his mouth,
But once open, they find his tounge gone.
The boy would be mute
And the witch couldn't do anything for she died of old age.
Nobody else would touch the child after that
And he went on
Out of the home.
Into the big wide world to write
My stories and my poems
And i feel the pain everyday
Of losing all the loved ones,
To never see them again
Is a tragedy to befall onto me,
But it is the price for bringing that
Dreaded voice into existance.