|This is a Zorro poem, but it's not within the Walt Disney universe. I saw pictures captured from an episode of the New World Zorro and it affected me very much. The idea of a young child caught in the middle of the carnage and horror of a civil war touched me deeply. This is from the point of view of the boy, Felipe, whom Don Diego rescued from the battlefield.|
Written by Felipe several years after the return of Diego from Spain
Red flowers lay everywhere, Crimson blossoms spreading their velvet petals Across the chests of soldiers Lying peacefully on cold mattresses Of grass and narcissus. The mist, like a shroud, covers their blind obedience.
The world is exploding, In flashes of yellow and red. The sky screams in terror. The Earth groans and shakes in pain, Throwing clots of itself into the dying air.
"No!" I cower, covering my ears. But War's talons pull at me, Make me listen to his victory dance. His breath freezes my bones. I clutch the bars of my refuge, The cart, the prison of my terror.
Mama, Papa. Make it go away! Please… Please, dear God Make this terrible, Awful, Horrible, Clamor go away.
Mama grabs Papa. There! Pointing to an island of safety, Life in an ocean of death, A tiny beacon of peace. Maybe…. Could it be! Yes? Hope prevails, Lending strength to weary feet.
War laughs. Wood splinters then explodes, The cart spins madly in the air. The whole world turns upside down. Everything is suddenly at peace. Blessed stillness.
I awake with a taste of blood in my mouth, My fear covers me like the dust Falling gently to the ground. I reach over and touch her sleeve. Mama! I try to say her name—Mama! Nothing. I cannot call her, wake her, or bring her back again. I cannot break the blessed stillness.
My fingers clutch the cold flesh of her arm. Mama's eyes stare, but they do not see me. Her fingers lay motionless in the dust, But they do not feel the warm earth. I drag myself away, Trying to get beyond death But it is all around me.
I look up and see a bird in a tree. Its mouth opens, its throat pulses. It is singing, but I cannot hear it. It has gone away. Awful Horrible Terrible Clamor has gone away. Cursed stillness.
The tree cradles me now. Its rough bark caresses my back. Hot tears slide down my cheeks. I smell death all around. A lump forms in my throat, Threatening to gag me. I am alone. ALONE!
Suddenly, there is a shadow. Fear squeezes my chest. What next? I look up and see a giant, With empty hands And a friendly face. Then he smiles and reaches toward me. With gentle hands, he picks me up. The arms are strong and envelop me In a shield of compassion, solace and safety. A giant? No, God has sent an angel.