One to One Hundred

1. The Artist

A canvas, with flicks and twists of a line created,
This delicate hand darts across unpainted world,
For hours at a time, her work goes on unabated,
Her entire life coded into paint, clues unfurled.

A leafless tree, a frozen river, nowhere left undrawn,
Melissa as much at ease on paper, as on frame,
This tainted world goes on, her look furrowed, forlorn,
The work of hers, though natural, seems but tame.

Destiny awaits her, or so she believed in her heart,
No family to discern, abandoned her as a child,
No reason to stay here, nothing to keep from depart,
Planning this great voyage, plotting departure to wild.

And so her final painting stood, central to empty room,
All belongings packed, easel mounted on her back,
Breaking free from her prison, her elected tomb,
Arduous times awaited, on the long unknown track.

2. The Leader

Standing in front, head held high, pride filled veins,
Johnathan, the leader of men, stood strong at head,
His peers were commanded by his controlling reins,
They obeyed his orders, or else they'd have been dead.

He was to soon be separated from those of his trust,
A journey alone, or so he thought, was to be taken,
Although he felt deep pain for leaving, he knew he must,
His soul and spirit are strong, this would not be his breaking.

Proving difficult, his task of packing and preparing to go,
Emotionally tied, he had no explanation, but it was time,
Maybe one day, his loyal men would come to know,
But not now, it was hard from the moment he had to climb.

Departure nears, tying rope and bags to his trusty steed,
Hoisting satchel to back, readying himself for the move,
One last look back, one silent farewell, none took heed,
He felt he was rejecting them, something to disprove.

3. The Writer

Pen to paper, words flowed along lines of a page,
Michael would sit for hours, coining story long,
Each letter a building block, a prop on his stage,
World created in text, freehand uncaring right or wrong.

Clutching his head, blockage within his mind,
Nothing would flow, nothing would release to page,
He would have to journey, a new world to find,
His last chance for new now, it is harder at his age.

One last try, trying to clear the mental pathway,
Sitting for hours, tip on the sheet, pause for thought,
Clock ticking on the wall, his only real mainstay,
The struggle of untrained writer, technique untaught.

It was time for him to leave, to find his new muse,
All he needed was pen, paper and clothes and hat,
No need to carry most things, for he would not use,
His journey begins, taking first steps, simple as that.

4. The Strategist

Figures lined up on a table, globe painted surface atop,
Next move was vital, the country's fate hung by a thread,
Charlotte was a mind unrivaled, her hand made war stop,
She created a victory, for her people, for the life ahead.

Honoured by her superiors, she bowed to medal and sword,
A diamond in their eye, no wrong she could surely do,
Presenting herself to the royalty, proudly they all adored,
Getting to her feet, faintest disillusion, nobody knew.

Doubting grew, her mind grew curious of the tabled world,
She wished to explore, to see the places she'd seen ended,
A smaller map she'd drawn, lay on table at home unfurled,
The disillusion grew stronger, and major doubt descended.

Could she leave this glory? Her life, although great, suppressed,
No choice of hers, it was stay in this decadent prison, or leave,
The longer she stayed, the longer it grew, becoming depressed,
Her time had come now, she has to depart here, and to grieve.

5. Melissa's First Steps

Her new dawn awaited, as she took her first step,
Easel and satchel weighing lightly upon her stride,
An optimistic breeze caught the back of her neck,
Cooling her mind, as she looked on down the way,
Step after step after step, no real direction to head,
A gut feeling led the way, a strange dull blind hope.

Sun shone down, late season rays combed the path,
Dark would approach early, early camp to lay ahead,
The open area made it safe to pitch herself down,
To raise her tent from the ground to her own height,
Light was beginning to fade, but she was prepared,
As the last rays departed, she was safely inside.