I’m used to the dark, quiet caves, the silence of the insect teeming forest streams; I cherish the blackness. I cling to the vast mountains of quiet like a chamois of secrets.
I shun the warm rays of the sun; I cringe and back away, repelled; it is no haven or hope for such as I.
No, never may I be comfortable where my visage may be seen. Am I hideous, you wonder? Perhaps you would think so, if you my face were to see. It is not something I can judge. But I must not be viewed; this was a lesson I was forcibly taught when I was still too little to speak clearly; without the sun, it’s true, I have but grown in slight ways, I am stooped but not stupid. But size would not be a benefit where I spend my days, so this gives me no regret.
The world of light cannot accept me. So I have been taught. And up to today, I have been content with these conditions.
Today a flash of light shocked my world.
O! I saw beauty for the first time.
I will never be the same.
I’ve seen you: what can I do now?