Zuko's Hell

Zuko's Hell

In the darkest of nights,

The quietest of moments,

Amidst the harshest of cold winds,

Laying in the loud of the silence

The moonlight glints

The abyss grins

The shadows grow

The eyes stare

He stands petrified

Breath shallow and ragged

Eyes wide in terror

Mouth open in horror

In the past, he visits

In the present, he is

In the dark, he lies

In the pain, he lives

He hears laughing

He smells burning

He sees smiling

He feels he is hurting

A ghostly touch

Yet so painful

He cries

He begs

No one listens

Everyone laughs

They point and stare

Now they whisper and glare

The past of his

A lesson they teach

Experience he has

Pain he befriends

He remembers, words from him

He recalls, cries of his

They talk, the begging he did

They mutter, the sinful deed

Burning hot white pain

Tears streaming down his other eye

He sees, atop of him, his father

Grinning with a wild look in his eyes

Of many things, he wonders

Of his sisters crazed giggles

Of his uncle's cowardly response

Of his mother's absence

Of his father's abuse

Of his ignorance

Ignorance that caused the death of many

The losses of his

He cries

He sins

He watches

He tries

He helps

He rages

He whimpers

He wakes up

He's in another hell

And he thinks,

Only the demon of their hell

Finds it to their liking

He smiles

He's tired

He ages

He's alone

Once more

One last time

One more moment

He dreams

Childe: I have no friends...

Scaramouche: Finally, you got something right.

"He cupped my face so gently, so caring. His touch one of a loving father.

He other hand came to atop my head, like he was patting me for a assurance.

Then it came.

The searing hot pain.

It burned and burned, a white hot burn. It was so intense, like the sun came down to Earth and visited me, touched me with it's flaming hand and painful touch.

Then...

Nothing.

Everything was black, and for a millisecond, I was scared, frightened. Begging for my mother's comfort.

Next thing I know, I woke up, numb with anesthesia.

I was confused, moment of pain that occured before momentarily forgotten. My hand came up to my head and brushed against cloth. The bandage, hiding and obscuring the burn that was surely there from view. Memories flashed before my eyes and tears welled up in my eyes.

Hours later, I was told the news regarding my banishment and the fool's errand that my father sent me on.

That was three years ago, I'm sixteen now.

I still don't know who was in the wrong."

I took my stance

And paid a glance;

I brought my hand down,

And fire danced around.

I brough him flames,

And they marred his face;

I am aware of the cruelty,

And the tragic beauty.

A tragic tale,

Told by people that wail;

Though, I will not regret,

Lest I fall to my death.