The Supernaturalist

A Crown of Sonnets (from ninth grade, teehee)

A Wreath of Pain

Constantly saved and constantly saving
Orphaned, parentally challenged, no sponsor
Sudden vision of that which isn’t supposed to exist
Moscowtown on Cosmonaut Hill, a baby swaddled in trash
Offered a new family after the one he never had.

Failing every day
To be what I was once said to be.
“The future of our world”,
Lying on my shoulders.
Breaking the connection
And immediate correction
By working gloved hands
To save what is too great to save alone.

To emancipate the victims
From the evils of this world
A goal that we all can live with.
Fight off the unseen,
To protect the unprotected.
Civilians.
Friends.
Myself.
No family to hold me back.
No family to hold me back.
It’s a duty to use this knowledge I’m given.

As life drags on,
We are the helpless innocents
Created for the gain of others.
Useless and feeling,
We are the rats running laps.
We’re lucky, to be where we are.
We’re lucky, to be needed somewhere.
We’re lucky, to be able to fight back.

A super city of twenty-five million souls,
Each with a story more heartbreaking than the last.
On their backs. Looking up.
Its features were delicate and impassive.
Weightless. Watching him with large, expressionless eyes.
Sparks rolled in its veins instead of blood.
The agony dipped, faded, and was gone.
His heart. Beating again. And again.
“Please.”
“Take me.”

Constantly saved and constantly saving
Failing every day
To emancipate the victims
As life drags on
A super city of twenty-five million souls.