Saviour


Dejected and distraught, she stomped on the marble floor,
Not knowing what to feel, not knowing who to hold.
Her love had disserted her, her friends had torn apart,
She knew it was impossible, to mend her broken heart.

She tried calling her mother, who never wanted her around,
She picked up saying ‘I am busy’, her voice in a frown.
‘I need you mama.’ she said, breathless and in tears,
‘Go to your non-existent father, and recite him your fears.’

 She decided to let go, of love, of hope, of life,
She made her way to the kitchen, to the basket of knives.
She picked up the metal sheet which would decide her failing fate,
Tears streaming down her cheeks, her insides churning with hate.

She was about to make that incision, about to set the pain free,
When she felt a wet nudge, at the back of her knees.
She looked down and saw, the scrawny brown dog,
Who was staring back at her, his eyes an epilogue.

She had rescued him this morning, from the forest of the deceased,
He was tattered and almost dying, his skin loose and creased.
She looked at him and read, the question in his eyes,
‘What are you doing?’ it said, with his head tilted in surprise.

She whimpered and sobbed, ’I am a lost cause, I am defeat.’
He wagged his tail at that, and barked a retreat.
At that she dropped the knife, and fell to the ground,
He licked her sobbing face with loving gestures and sounds.

She looked at him with awe, admiration and shame,
The dog she thought she rescued had flipped her own game.
He was no knight in armour nor was he a prince,
Instead he was her saviour, her own personal kin.

That scrawny dog she thought, who was as hopeless as her,
Turned out to be her support, her own supply of valour.
She looked at him in the eye and asked a timid ‘why?’
He came to her cheek and simply licked a reply.

At that she threw her arms, around his thin neck,
And cried the relief, she felt in her breath.
She whimpered and she sobbed, she let herself feel clearly,
Then she smiled and said, ‘Pretty thing, you saved me.’




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