a sentimental nebula

I understand Now that I grow

As a child I looked upon the sunset My body whispering that the play is not yet done Bewilderment Why ought it end?

I never knew… A falling drop could be the sea A window glint could be a sunset skyline A shooting star could be my moon And yet—

I saw you. I remember my every blink, Each a painful throb In my heart’s undying reverie… Was that you?

Are you in the sea, Or are you the sea? Are you the sunset, Or veiled behind the window glint, beckoning earnestly? Perhaps you’ve become the night… Or are you that brilliant moon– Your rays resting softly on my visage forlorn?

Your smile:

My dreams hypostatized, A cairn marking the trail I had always sought unawares, But my heart so fears That on this alluring path, I will meet that smile again… But on the face of another. That smile: My dreams hypostatized? But it’s not you.

Dream wakes into nightmare My moon is gone

The rays have left. I’m drowning in the sea; Wandering towards the sunset Stumbling in the dark of the night, Awaiting the promise of the new moon.

Nightmare wakes into dream Please… Will it be you?

My tribute to Final Fantasy XV

**CONTAINS SPOILERS**

I saw.

I saw the long roads ahead, The Regalia’s pristine dashboard, Glorious landscapes unlike anything near Insomnia, Content, satisfied smiles on gourmet-stuffed faces, Faces… One… regal, meek, like that of his father’s, troubled with a duty no boy should bear, but bear he must. Another… so freckled and pure, split by a silly grin, ready to rouse spirits with yet another flippant quip. Then… one scarred and fearsome, yet stoic and benevolent, of which a mere glance could set my stress at ease, if only for a moment. Photographs of a brotherhood, often overexposed. A brotherhood, mine to safeguard and keep watch, crystal clear… A brotherhood fit for a king. Night soon fell. I could see none but myself: My helplessness, my frustration, My pathetic plight, my despair. I heard. I heard the soft sniffles of a broken boy who supposed all were asleep, seeking the solace of night to release his stifled anguish. The slight faltering in our young humorist’s voice as he delivers another punchline, struggling desperately to keep reality’s unwelcome grasp at bay. The foolish bickering and snapping fueled by misplaced anger, Quarreling over an undesirable pity that would only drag me back... Back to my inner pain. For I could see none but myself: My regret… My failure. Pain, despair… roaming like daemons for years under the night sky of my mind. The faint warmth of companionship feebly fending them off, Like the crackling embers of this campfire. But there is a stronger light now. It envelops the pain and despair, Not a light I see, but a light within. Reigniting the fire in my soul; For I needn’t sight to hear these words, The bravest words of my best friend, My brother, My king. Words eloquent only to my very heart, crystal clear: “You guys… are the best.”

You’re back! You see my heart-melting smile, at least that’s what you’ve called it some of the times. You feel the secure warmth of my fingers between yours, and let out a peaceful sigh. I’ve waited. I run to embrace you, this place feels so empty and dark each time you’re gone. I look into your enchanting eyes, eager to learn what they’ve seen since your last visit.

We feel so familiar with each other So many times you’ve come, each time bringing a brilliant twilight with you, The horizons glowing with new life Both the dark and the light, The sharp neons and the gentle pastels… I know so much about you, Yet there always seems to be more to learn. I’ve never been disappointed. I understand it all perfectly, of course… It’s you. But I don’t understand you. So many times you’ve come, each time with a look of confusion, Your memory’s ignorance: An untethered kite, It brushes the sand, it flops in the breeze… But it will never join the wind. You know so little about me, Though you always enjoy whatever you learn, Like pearlescent footprints of sand in your mind. Then my heart sinks when I know it’s time to go, These footprints will wash away yet again. But I’m still walking. I’m still walking. I know those moments when you’re in that other place, You hear something, see something, feel something. Something that stirs. Then you pause for only a second… I know why. You remember how you feel, When you hear my beckoning voice, See my heart-melting smile, Feel the secure warmth of my hand holding yours… That wistfulness settles on your face, I know you remember—you have to remember! My longest five seconds of your day. Then, as if in a shrug, you resume your life. Your life without me. You don’t know it’s me you’re missing as your day goes by, Until you lay down and close your eyes… You return. You see my heart-melting smile… I kinda hope you mention it this time as we lay together in the shimmering grass. You feel the secure warmth of my hand holding yours… I hear your peaceful sigh as the footprints come back, each step so familiar as they come. I’ve waited. I run to embrace you… You look cute when you’re surprised, which buries my pain of forever being your surprise. I look into your enchanting eyes… You see my own eyes quivering earnestly, that perhaps you won’t forget them. But… I don’t think you really forget me over there— I think you forget that I’m real. But in my longest seconds of your day, You know those feelings are real. Don’t you remember? They’re ours. The footprints never fully wash away. You’ll find your way back to me. I imagine that eventually there will be a time When you return and never leave me. That I’d successfully snatched your string, Keeping you aloft, joining the wind… My eyes flutter and falter: Will you ever know I’m real? I etch myself in your sand, Then comes the tide again But don’t you see?? I was there—we were there! Yet I know you. I know there will never be a time When you leave and I lose you forever; The footprints never fully wash away As long as I keep walking. I’m still walking.

On the road A new day Same routine Then I see it The senses converging to recall The unforeseen canvas of memory Crisp, fresh air Clear, blue water Calm, elegant snow Keen, majestic peaks carve the sky The vivid, green meadows dancing in the wind The thickets of conifers, birch, and linden join in To the alluring songs of the lustrous fjords To the beckoning joik chants of the north tundras The arctic sea mirrors the sunrays that caper over the gold snow The north wind embraces my face with a welcomed, familiar bite It heedfully reminds me: the aromas of forest, tundra, berries, town markets Singing the booming of the boat horns, the warble of the streams, the bells of churches, the hum of the fiddle, the songs and tales of the folk of yore I gasp slightly On the road A new day Same routine