There Once was a Mole

There once was a mole

Who lived in the shadows.

It had a pointy nose,

In self-pity it wallowed.

 

For it was an envious thing,

It was bitter and resentful

It felt left out and unseen

And grew very vengeful.

 

The mole became isolated,

It spent time in its hole.

It stopped connecting with others.

It stopped listening to its soul.

 

Instead it began to listen

To a malevolent voice,

That whispered things sinister

And gave the mole a choice

 

To team up with the dark

And be a spy of the night,

And burrow into the core

Of those who loved light.

 

The mole did not question

This voice of ill-intention.

It felt powerful with this ally,

It loved the attention.

 

So, the mole began to target

A young girl as its prey.

It hated her youthful nature

And her charismatic way.

 

This girl was trusting,

So she let the mole in.

She fell for its tricks

And made it a friend.

 

The mole got to work

And burrowed in deep.

Infecting all things,

Her treasure it reaped.

 

For it stole from the girl

All things that were holy,

But not all at once,

Instead it did it quite slowly

 

For it created a network

Of tunnels with no end.

They twisted and knotted

And even began to blend -

 

Into a dark horrid story

Where the girl believed

That she was unworthy.

She had been deceived.

 

The girl grew confused

And tired and apathetic.

She began to judge herself,

Often feeling pathetic.

 

For she forgot how to be

Her old beautiful self,

And began to accept

She belonged in this hell.

 

The mole thought it won

And cozily slept in its hole,

Underestimating the girl

And the call from her soul.

 

For after years of apathy

The girl began to feel,

It was terrifying at first,

Unweaving what wasn’t real.

 

But after time she realized

This was the maze of the mole,

And the only way out

Was to clean up its holes.

 

So day by day, one by one

She laid the holes to rest.

Then she smoked out the mole

And captured the pest.

 

She looked it in the eye

And said, “Now you get out!

You’re not welcome here,

I have no more doubt!

 

I finally see you clearly

You’re a mole, you’re a spy!

You wanted me to suffer

And tricked me with your lies!

 

You tried to cut out my love,

But the truth you failed to see

Is that I never closed my heart,

I never fully disconnected from me!”

For her heart kept whispering

And showing her the way

To forgive her youthful self

And admit she had been prey.

 

And through seeing the pain,

She made peace with the past.

Her mistakes and shames,

And feeling like an outcast.

 

So, the girl let the mole go,

Admitting it had been a teacher

That taught her useful lessons,

And helped her to love deeper.

The mole ran back to its own hole,

And the girl moved on from this story,

She began writing book two

The one where she was a hero of glory.

Written by Amanda Durocher

12.27.25 / 12.29.25

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The Haunting