Controlled
By Liaranne
Disclaimer: I do not own the Animorphs or the Yeerks. I do own the character.
WARNING: This poem contains suicidal tendencies and cutting.
A/N: This just popped into my head yesterday. It is rated PG-13 for violence, suicidal tendencies, and mild swearing. A sequel may be forthcoming. I'm not sure. Please, read and review. It's supposed to be in poem format, but it won't upload that way. Grrrrr.
***
I watch myself, from a distance. I am a slave. No, I am not a slave. A slave at least has the freedom of his mind. A slave can plan without a keeper in his head. I am less than a slave. They call us Controllers, But I am not a Controller, I am the Controlled.
I cannot see without my keeper opening my eyes. I can no longer look at the flowers unless my keeper allows me to. I can do nothing, not even hold my breath without my keeper's will. I can try to do something, but nothing happens. My keeper holds me still.
The only freedom I have is in my thoughts, My keeper cannot take them away from me. Death would be better than this. A slave has the freedom to die to escape, I do not.
My keeper is going to feed, I can relish my half-hour of freedom. I can move! I do not want to be taken again.
I see him. A man in my cage. I see the pocket knife in his jeans. The keepers forgot to take it. I ask him for it, He sees in my eyes what I will do. He refuses.
I take it from him. I cut. I cut and cut and cut, But I do not scream from the pain. The guards do not notice the blood. I faint.
I awake in a hospital. Damn them a million times for bringing me here. My keeper is back, Back in my head. My keeper punishes me.
Oh, for the freedom I was so close to!
I remember those valuable words once uttered, "Live free or die,"
I wish I had that choice. A slave at least has the freedom to die.
***
Like it? Hate it? Please review!
By Liaranne
Disclaimer: I do not own the Animorphs or the Yeerks. I do own the character.
WARNING: This poem contains suicidal tendencies and cutting.
A/N: This just popped into my head yesterday. It is rated PG-13 for violence, suicidal tendencies, and mild swearing. A sequel may be forthcoming. I'm not sure. Please, read and review. It's supposed to be in poem format, but it won't upload that way. Grrrrr.
***
I watch myself, from a distance. I am a slave. No, I am not a slave. A slave at least has the freedom of his mind. A slave can plan without a keeper in his head. I am less than a slave. They call us Controllers, But I am not a Controller, I am the Controlled.
I cannot see without my keeper opening my eyes. I can no longer look at the flowers unless my keeper allows me to. I can do nothing, not even hold my breath without my keeper's will. I can try to do something, but nothing happens. My keeper holds me still.
The only freedom I have is in my thoughts, My keeper cannot take them away from me. Death would be better than this. A slave has the freedom to die to escape, I do not.
My keeper is going to feed, I can relish my half-hour of freedom. I can move! I do not want to be taken again.
I see him. A man in my cage. I see the pocket knife in his jeans. The keepers forgot to take it. I ask him for it, He sees in my eyes what I will do. He refuses.
I take it from him. I cut. I cut and cut and cut, But I do not scream from the pain. The guards do not notice the blood. I faint.
I awake in a hospital. Damn them a million times for bringing me here. My keeper is back, Back in my head. My keeper punishes me.
Oh, for the freedom I was so close to!
I remember those valuable words once uttered, "Live free or die,"
I wish I had that choice. A slave at least has the freedom to die.
***
Like it? Hate it? Please review!