The man with no tongue

The man with no tongue can’t scream as the one

Ignoble-man on horse gets away.

Descriptions are useless as no guard who chooses

To defy this royal will remain unslain.


The man with no tongue can still feel his lungs

As they heave and help him hum a song.

He scribbles the choruses, bars, lines, and lyrics—

His hands are so weak, but his heart is strong.


The man with no tongue can’t work for merchants,

So he is shooed away like a mouse.

He pens stories, reports, poems, songs, and proses

And trades for food and tax on his house.


The man with no tongue accepts in a young

Orphaned girl with but pennies to spare.

He steps up his writing, producing more sonnets,

And trades for more food and coin to share.


The man with no tongue took up work with a nun

When the old man who played organ quit.

As payment he asked them to teach the orphan words,

And slowly the young girl became literate.


The man with no tongue watched as the girl sprung

Up with a taste for adventure’s might.

He begged her to work with merchants, but she refused.

So he bought some weapons and taught her to fight.


The man with no tongue heard the Ignoble-man

Lost his power over the country.

So, he wrote the story of how he lost his tongue

And hung it through the village with a bounty.


The man with no tongue even sent the young

Woman to trade the merchants his plight.

But, on the way she read it and planned to punish

The Ignoble-man, so she left that night.


The man with no tongue showed to everyone

The girl’s face to see if she left hence.

Some told of her mission, and the man lamented

Until he saw her coming in the distance.


The man with no tongue gaped at the man flung

To his feet by the woman he raised.

It was the Ignoble-man begging forgiveness

Already punished, for off his hands she razed.


The man with no hands cannot hurt the one

Silent-poet who is here to stay.

His business is booming and writings, consuming.

When asked of this tale, he’ll have nothing to say.


Author’s note: I had a dream that an evil villain cut off my tongue. It was in the medieval era. I decided I would pursue my writing career and wrote every single second I could. Soon I had a small business in the village I lived in, and I saved up money. Then I wrote a story about the villain and sent it out to everyone as a bounty description. I also began raising this orphan girl who was spunky and adventurous. I taught her how to fight, and one day, as a teenager, she went off without me knowing. She found the villain, and as punishment she cut off his hands. Then I woke up…

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