Discarded Mask (c) in medias res by Melinda Kucsera


He toweled birth fluids off his hands; the colt
tottered to his mum’s waiting teat to eat.
A tickle in his mind, a soft slide, no jolt,
just a smile as the connection that cheats
the miles ‘tween his mind and mom’s cemented.
Her much-missed voice in his head, soft and sweet,
praised the colt he’d helped birth; sad news dented
his mirth; his captive grandpa’s dead; grief beat
him down, twelve years of mind-talk, no contact,
not safe ma’d said. He kicked the mask, pining.
No masked fete for him, not when this contact
had broken his heart. “Are the stars shining?”
mom asked. He
 tilted his head, let her see
sharp pricks of stars ‘gainst black, that was her plea. 

~ ~ ~

Guilt pricked him that his mom could only see
the spangled sky through his eyes. Her prison
was a cave. She watched, content to see
through his eyes.  A cluster of pinpricks on
the dark curve of the lake marked her prison cell.
“Don’t think like that, my son, go to the ball.”
He ran, followed Neverthrall’s curve–to hell
with the masque. He’d save his mom or he’d fall
into prison with her. Mist rose, his feet
veered from his goal due to the confusion
born of his mom’s mind; her control’s complete.
“Let me go to you, ma,” he petitioned.
I love you my son. You must stay away.”
“No, I’ll find a way–stay alive–just stay…”

~ ~ ~

She wiped away tears as she turned her son back.
Twelve years ago she’d secreted him out.
It tore her heart each time she turned him back.
Outside her cell, a masked man paced about.
One of her many jailers, and the one
who’d sought to shame her, give
himself a few
minutes of bliss, not knowing he’d left one
gift behind, a son. After decades’ viewed
through failure, she’d finally birthed a live
baby, a perfect son, her heart’s desire.
No shame and no victim’s need to revile
not when five minutes of discomfort sired
her a son; she’d gained far more than he’d taken.
He kept watch; she kept hers, smile unshaken.

~ ~ ~

Redacted from a manuscript that hasn’t yet got a name. It’s part of the Curse Breaker Saga, just a lot further out concerning characters who come up a little later. This sequence features Darsavian and his mother, Marsaya, (and what a tough lady she is).

~ ~ ~

Read more about Sarn in the Curse Breaker Saga. Like vignette-style poems? I’ve got lots on my Tales of Shayari page or my Poetic Fantasy page.

~ ~ ~

Inspired by Tale Weaver #41 – Masks

10 thoughts on “Masks

    1. Thank you so much! I have been working on Sarn’s world for decades. There’s lots of vignette (sonnets) on my Tales of Shayari ( page starring Sarn and there will be holiday posts for Christmas like I did for Thanksgiving. You can see them all here: ( The rough draft of 1/5 of the first book is available on my blog too, you can access the TOC here: ( I’m trying to get it out on kindle soon. Once it is, I will publish edited versions of the 22 chapters that are currently available. And of course, I will keep writing sonnets about him and the other characters from his world. So plenty more to come! Thank you so much. Your words mean a lot to me.


  1. I found your piece a very powerful discourse on the influence of hiding and hiding behind asks in fear of the truth being discovered. An excellent piece of writing and thank you for participating in tale weavers.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave smiles or some cheer, drop your comments here

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s