Work Text:
No one could bear to face his eyes
as he peered up at the sky haunted
by loss. Rivers silently poured down his
face as flames danced up around
him, burning his skin. At this moment he realized he was alone.
When his brother reluctantly showed
his face once more, he was
ecstatic. Two months later he came out
of it used and abused, once more longing
for a family who would accept him for who he is.
At that moment, he realized he had nothing.
He had his wheels as his only home,
never stopping to take a break from it all
and process it for his own good.
Never once did he stop,
nor did the slow crumbling of his mind.
He just kept going.
Now, he had brains and he had skills;
he knew how to defend himself and others.
For those to which he was loyal he gave everything,
spread himself as thin as putty,
if not thinner.
He just kept going.
This led his aching soul to places of
which he had had no idea. Dark places,
vines of corruption weaving their way
through the untended garden of his broken
spirit. At this moment, he knew he was gone.
Weary and scarred, he laid down just
to wake up in a world he knew quite well;
a world filled with pain, sorrow, and torment.
The smell of fear and taste of ashes became too much to bear
as he listened to the cries of the lost.
He endured and adapted, turning into something he
wouldn't have recognized. Then, one day, he saw
a hand reach for him through this hell.
And, at that moment, he knew he was saved.