Hiya! This is my first poem about Yu-Gi-Oh. For those of you who don't know, Marik was 10 years old when he received his scars. This poem is from his point of view, so enjoy. ^^
Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh
At the Mercy of a Stranger
Icy cold fingers bore cruelly into my skin,
fear pounded an irregular tune deep within.
A sob evades my mouth as I despairingly plead,
the begging fell on deaf ears as I let out a scream.
Dragging me from my room I struggled every step,
dread freezing my blood as through me it crept.
Helplessness filled the whole of my small being,
like demons clawing deeply in me and never fleeing.
As I passed my brother I cried out for help tearfully,
he stood with his eyes downward and stared dully.
They dragged me into a large chamber lit with flames,
my father heating a knife with a demented smile on his face.
Shadows from the fire flickered across his tanned skin,
while he looked at me and his smile broadened to a grin.
My tormentors stripped me of my clothes from my back,
while I struggled to escape from their wicked grasp.
I was shackled on a slab of cold stone while I moaned,
whilst my terror grew and I felt completely alone.
My father approached me and I shrank back in fear,
pleading with him while down my cheek rolled a tear.
He ignored my begging and stated as he did before,
it was my legacy for a proud Tomb Keeper I was born.
T'was our duty to have the Pharaoh's memory on our back,
carved painfully so his remembrance will return from empty black.
I then felt the heated tip of the knife against my bare skin,
shivering as my vision from fear and anguish grew dim.
A stinging pain suddenly drew a gasp from my parched throat,
as I continued to struggle while I screamed and lost hope.
The suffering that burned on my back never relented,
while I balled my fists and wished it ended.
Blood dripped down my chin from where I bit my lip,
attempting to ease the fiery white pain that my mind gripped.
After what seemed like centuries my father retreated,
and I out of thirst drunk my tears that lay on the stone beaded.
The warm liquid of blood flowed smoothly down my sides,
tears wracking my small body as I shamefully wept and cried.
My mind screamed as footsteps signaled my father's return,
and without warning a blinding white pain throughout me burned.
Understanding grew that he was rubbing salt on my open wounds,
my crying turning to whimpers as from lack of blood I swooned.
The grainy burning substance rubbed deep against my back,
transforming my bloody gashes to scars the color black.
Faint from the pain that wracked the whole of my body,
revenge formed in my young mind on who I would make sorry.
My anger turned to hate so deep at the abandonment I felt,
that it writhed and twisted within me from where it dwelt.
I then wept quietly at the comprehension of what my father had done,
after all, I wondered in shock and pain, wasn't I his only son?
T___T poor chibi Marik. It was so wrong that he had to go through that! Now, I'm not certain if they actually did rub salt on his back, but I heard that turns wounds black, so I added it. But, anyway, thanks for reading the poem. I have some other stories if you want to read them. Ja ne and have a marvelous day! Don't forget to review. ^____~