The Outlander

I originally wrote this poem in high school for an open poetry reading at a cafe near where I grew up (I can't recall it's name offhand). A whole bunch of us from school went, and I wrote this piece that afternoon specifically so I would have something new to read. After I had finished reading it there was silence for a moment, and then a murmured "Wow" from the back of the room. It was exactly the kind of reaction I was looking for. Enjoy.

I
The portal lay open before him.
The light beyond beckoned, promising.
He hesitated, unwilling to leave his home of dreams.
His future lay ahead,
But he was unwilling to leave his comfort zone.
The myriad possibilities were before him,
Alternate paths of life.
Steeling himself, he stepped through
And entered the bright, cold, glaring world
On the other side of the gate.
He changed his mind and looked back,
But the portal had closed behind him.
He howled in the sorrow and frustration of his loss.

II
He struggled to understand this new world,
The people who surrounded him.
Mysteries abounded, and he fought valiantly
To understand.

III
The world he was in
Became familiar while remaining alien.
He studied, learned, thought
About life, being, emotion, love.
Love. It was the greatest mystery.
It was his grail.
The relic upon whose path he quested.

IV
The mysteries persisted.
He sought the knowledge
Like a dying man seeks water in the desert.
Hundreds of questions were asked
But remained ever unanswered.

V
This world was not his native world.
In his homeland dragons flew the skies.
Unicorns roamed emerald plains.
Fairies danced the minuet 'midst mushroom rings.
Knights and wizards fought in mortal combat.
Fantastic creatures of every size and description
Inhabited his world and traveled the heavens
In fabulous golden-silver ships with sails of bronze,
Having adventures of epic scope
And writing their own sagas and legends
To last through time.
In his sleep, he could enter this world, his home.
He could span the gulf 'twixt realities.
He would think of them in his waking hours
And try to capture their magic for others.

VI
It was not his world.
The frigid, heartless, dreary world
Had formed a circle unto themselves
And left him on the outside.
The Outlander, ignored, rejected,
Scorned, looked down upon.
A stranger in a strange land.

VII
He continued his quest for love.
His epic journey through the soul.
After timid forays into this uncharted land
He tasted the fruit.
On the lips it was honey
But his stomach turned and left him empty.
He retreated again, nursing his bleeding heart.

VIII
"Your time will come," she said to him.
"You just wait and see."
He nodded silently and hung his head.
When would it come?
He was tired of waiting for the chance.
Tired of patience, tired of longing.
The emptiness in his soul ran like a sore
Bleeding into his mind.
In despair he closed his eyes
And dreamed.

IX
The Outlander still quests for love
And answers to the mysteries of life.
His journey hasn't ended.
His grail still lies ahead.
So the Outlander still travels,
Still hopes,
Still wonders,
Still dreams.

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