Quick poem inspired by Saria, from her POV. Oneshot.
I stand before you
Not willing, not able
To look away
Soon you’ll be gone, and I
To wonder what became of you.
I hold out my final gift to you
So that you’ll always have songs in the darkness
And remember me.
You’re so quiet.
You always are
The words you do not speak hang heavy in the foggy air.
Nothing to be heard but the cries of birds circling overhead
And our heartbeats
And a soft spattering as my tears hit the ground.
You can’t face it
And I am standing looking at the space you filled moments before
Knowing that it will follow me everywhere I go
Until we meet again.
Then I’m in the meadow wishing to see you
And suddenly there you are
Running towards me.
I greet you happily
When all I really want to do is throw my arms around you
And make you stay a little longer.
So I give you another gift
So we can speak any time.
As long as the music is heard in the meadow
And you carry my first gift with you.
Then one day the music stops.
Seven years since last I saw you
I don’t appear a day older than the last time we met
At least, not on the outside.
But inside I’m dying
Falling to pieces
Barely able to hold myself together.
“He’s not coming back.”
That’s what they tell me
But I can’t listen, because I have to believe
That we will meet again.
I go to the meadow
Which was once our special place
Only now it is
The music is gone.
I climb the steps that crack and crumble
I walk into dark empty building that’s falling apart
Because I heard something call me.
But there are evils there that hunt me
Ask me where you are
Even though I scream that I don’t know.
And then huddled in a corner, all alone
Frightened, forgotten, lonelier than ever I have been
I hear your voice
And the music begins to play.
Next thing I know
There you are
Looking into my eyes
You’ve grown so much, from the awkward boy
Into one so handsome
But I don’t even need to ask in order to know that you know longer carry
And the way you don’t quite meet my eyes, I know
Another now has your heart.
And standing before you
Feeling young and lost and small
I can’t avoid the words playing through my head
The way the music used to play in the meadow.
What happened to us?