NaPoWriMo #28: Eraser

Last time you were the zero.
I was forced to defend you
against beasts in every cage
that wouldn't accept your whines
and the horn you used to fight
anyone who said you weren't real.
I could've told the people
who came to see you, that life
itself wasn't sure it should
back your heart in combat
against all the forces of hate.
The secrets of your origin
weren't hidden to us:  a youth
who kissed every creature
in the garden until it received
his name, which meant proud
and weak depending on
how you slid your tongue.
We wanted the entire zoo
to be broken into, the gates
letting the clawed and spiked
to enter the ordinary world,
while you made up excuses
for why you couldn't help
the keepers gather them up,
behind fences where they were
understood by nobody but themselves.
Eventually, your fame will fall.
You'll be moved to the end
of a path, that's so steaming
in the summer you'll forget
what cool is:  only those fools
desperate for prophecy come,
messages that you fail to give
that you feel are erased from
your head, what's left of you.