Okay, so this isnt a Poem, but it is a short story i wrote a while back so i'm posting it!!!!
Freedom For a Forgotten Land...
The woman woke up from an induced sleep with a numbing headache. She looked around the room where she was, a foul smell filled the air. Suddenly, she remembered where she was. The British government has taken her prisoner, all because she wanted to free her country from their rule. She was a Scottish operative, working in the dark to influence the right people to get her land freed. Now, they have taken her. Her mind followed its’ instincts and reverted back to the military training she had. She fiddled with her restraints, testing how sturdy they were, seeing if they had any give. Alas! She was in luck; the chains she was tied down with were old and weak, easy to break. She applied as much pressure to the chains as she possibly could, and they started to break.
When the chains finally broke all the way through, she lurched out from where she had been chain and looked around the room for anything she could use. There was a screwdriver, a rope, and the chains she was tied up with. Outside the door, she heard guards walking past her cell; they were directly in front of it every other minute. If she timed it correctly, she could shimmy the door lock loose and go past the guards.
She carefully took the screwdriver from the floor of the room and unscrewed the chains; they’d make decent weapons. She hurriedly scrambled to the door and waited for the perfect time to start. The guards outside were stopped in front of her door, talking to each other.
“What do you think we should do with the traitor?” asked the first guard.
“She doesn’t know, we are to wait till we get orders from the Prime Minister. Till then we aren’t to open the door. She is a dangerous woman. We can’t underestimate her.” Said the second. “Now get back to your patrol.”
As soon as he said that, she heard the guards start pacing again, and that’s when she went to work on the door. There were two locks, one on the door ****, and the other above it, a dead bolt. She put the screwdriver to the dead bolt first, wedging it between the metal of the bolt and the metal of the door, trying my best to be as quiet as she possibly could. The dead bolt finally lifted from its spot on the door, bringing the lock with it. She grinned as she heard the guards pass by me again, trying hard not to make a sound that would alert them to my awareness, and that the drugs wore off. She flattened herself to the wall, its cold surface creating goose bumps on my skin. She denied herself the privilege of warming herself; the cold would keep her alert.
When the guards finally past the door again, She got back to work, unscrewing the screws on the door handle. They came with ease, but now was the hard part, sneaking past the guards that were patrolling right outside my door. The thing that the guards most likely don’t know is that she can control fire, create fire, all the good stuff with fire. She turned the handle slowly and darted out into the hall.
The guards turned their head just in time to see her running out of the doorway, darting for her freedom. Her red hair flew behind her as she ran past the guards and down the stairs.
The guards looked awestruck for a moment then they realized what happened. “Stop her!” they both shouted.
The woman heard the calls of the guards behind her and decided to ignite the stairs in flames. She turned to the stairs and raised her hand, waving it over the stairs. As if on cue, the stairs burst with flames, erupting all the way through the staircase. The guards were screaming at the top of the stairs, not knowing how the stairs came to be encased in a rage of fire.
She turned back to the door that led outside and to her freedom of this dreadful place. The sun wasn’t in the sky, the mist was around the land. She ran for the door, making in erupt in flames before she got there, giving her a space where she could simply walk through the frame without having to open the door. When she walked outside, she met guards, guard dogs, and not to mention guns. She was out numbered, but even with the guns she wasn’t overpowered.
The men held their guns at the ready, waiting for a reason to shoot at the woman or for a command to stand down. The woman walked slowly towards to middle of the guards, having them close in around her, encircling her entirely. She turned slowly, eyeing every sentry, pondering who would initiate the attack. The only thing she knew for sure is that she had information that she had to get back to her headquarters or else Scotland would never be freed. She curled her fists, creating a fiery form around her hands. She whipped her head around and threw a fireball at a group of the guards, causing them to go flying in all directions, fearing getting burned. She turned now on another set of guards, sending fire at them like a water hose from her hands.
She turned again, now facing the guard dogs, they were without handlers. Confused and scared, they dogs ran for their lives. The woman walked towards the gate that separated her from her freedom. When she reached the gates, she turned around for one last glace, and saw the distress this place was in. She felt a brief second of remorse, an apologetic feeling to those whom she had burned. Quickly, she forced the feelings from her mind, getting herself back to her normal state of mind. She turned to face the world outside the gates, and smiled. She had made it out of the enclosure. Finally she could tell the people she worked for the secrets of the British and maybe that will help get the country back from them.
With a smile upon her face, she stepped out of the British camp and out into the country air, where she really wanted to be….
A month later, the woman was sitting in a court house; waiting for the decision from the courts to see of Scotland would be at last freed. Her foot tapped impatiently, nervous to know if all her hard work would pay off. The door to the court house flung open and a boy came out screaming “SCOTLAND IS FREEEEE!!!!!”
The woman jumped out of her seat and ran outside. All around the courthouse was hundreds of Scotsmen and woman rejoicing for the new victory. She had succeeded; she had made her country free. A huge grin rose on her face, knowing that it was because of her that her people were freed, that all of her work had paid off, it was amazing…
They were free