Proof
Rating: PG Iella The setting for this poem is the scene in Inferno where Ben is in Jacen's secret torture room. I've been playing around with this idea for a while, but it's been misbehaving. Poems do that sometimes slippery little critters. You may find the phrasing odd, but it's my attempt to capture the rhythms of Ben's thinking as he struggles with both pain and his identity while in the embrace of pain. I don't use traditional rhyme as such, but I do use half-rhyme and repetition to hold the poem together, along with parallelism. And in this poem the verb "to be" is very important. So here goes. I am Ben . . .
Nothing else matters but this, nothing but being Ben, human child of human parents; somebody ... someone, although unity is slipping away with the blood sluicing down into pools at his feet, leaking out in saline streams of sweat and saliva. He thinks he might be dissolving. He thinks the poisonous barbs of the torture chair are to blame. He thinks ... thinking might be proof that he is still Ben. And proof matters, proof that he is ... who he says he is, proof that this body belongs to Ben, that the evidence is incontrovertible. He knows that process only too well: tick fingerprints, check blood type, match tissue samples and he is confident there is no lack of those here, no fear of counterfeit. The marks of Ben are clear in this room; staining the floor, glistening on the chair of thorns like splattered froth in shades of mucous green. He may be stretched thin, he may be racked until tendons scream, but he is through gritted teeth still Ben. Nothing in this room can prove otherwise. And the pain is merely proof that he is still alive, still breathing, still clinging to the stubborn legacy that can only belong to Ben, human child of Mara, now dead, of Luke, grieving. Nothing in this room, no-one in this room can bleed him of that. No, nothing matters here, nothing at all; just one simple, irrefutable truth that lies beyond the language of pain, beyond the shadow of doubt. The facts would speak for him if he let them, but he prefers to speak for himself, smiling, tenacious, unyielding, three words that mean everything: I am Ben. Disclaimer: All content is made up, and no profit or lucre is expected, solicited, advocated or paid. This is all just for fun. Any comments, please e-mail the author or WOOKIEEhut directly. Flames will be ignored. Characters and situations are based on those which are the property of LucasFilms Ltd., Bantam Publishing, Random House, etc. and their respective original owners, publishers, agents, and developers. The rest is this story's author's own fault. This story may not be posted anywhere without the author's knowledge, consent, and permission. This story is presented by Wookieehut.com. |