Punished for treason he stands still, along with his brethren dotted about the woods around him; the woods in which they had been fleeing both those they had betrayed and those they had been trying to help.
Frozen forever with a single fixed vision, his thoughts roll round and around. Whether they fix upon regret or hope or anger and indignation, or all of these in turn, he can never convey.
Turned to coloured wood in death, he is his own memorial: a reminder for all time of the cruelty that took place among the trees all those years ago. Both caused by him and against him.
Over the years though it became harder to remember these people turned to wood as those left behind tried hard to forget those times and to put it all beyond their collective memory. Because there was always that niggling doubt.
Had these vicious wolf-men really turned, really, genuinely, been on their side at the end? It was a time of confusion; it was hard to be sure even as someone tried to point it out. But they were, it became apparent, or else why would these monuments exist?
The wood became forbidden for years.
Memories faded.
The people returned.
Many now stand in front of him, behind and beside investigating every feature in his face, every crack that has appeared on its surface. Always wondering what secrets it hides.
How did it come to be there?
Who made it?
and
Who was he?
Frozen forever with a single fixed vision, his thoughts roll round and around. Whether they fix upon regret or hope or anger and indignation, or all of these in turn, he can never convey.
Turned to coloured wood in death, he is his own memorial: a reminder for all time of the cruelty that took place among the trees all those years ago. Both caused by him and against him.
Over the years though it became harder to remember these people turned to wood as those left behind tried hard to forget those times and to put it all beyond their collective memory. Because there was always that niggling doubt.
Had these vicious wolf-men really turned, really, genuinely, been on their side at the end? It was a time of confusion; it was hard to be sure even as someone tried to point it out. But they were, it became apparent, or else why would these monuments exist?
The wood became forbidden for years.
Memories faded.
The people returned.
Many now stand in front of him, behind and beside investigating every feature in his face, every crack that has appeared on its surface. Always wondering what secrets it hides.
How did it come to be there?
Who made it?
and
Who was he?
No comments:
Post a Comment