Onset

Born into great things, but did he want to be

Purged from the dwelling, the home I knew,
This wasn't asked for, I didn't, did you?
Affable beats were telling a tale,
accompanied with rasp, wind caught in a sail.
Drowned by abrasions, clawed into the light,
an unsettling surge, the discovery of sight.
All of the urges tell me to fight,
kick, grab, scream with such might.
Senses develop, textures, aroma,
clueless, yet this caress I will savour.
Viewed through glass, I wish to go home,
I long again for dulcet tones,
born for great things, these emotions unknown.