Disclaimer: If I was Russell, then would I own Holmes?
A/N: Hello, my friends! I'm baaaack! :D I've had a rather long hiatus from fanfic, during which my muses went on a vacation and turned off their phones, refused to check their e-mail, and generally gave me no way to contact them…
But seriously, I had other hobbies and that thing we call Real Life distracting me as well as the absence of my creative juices…and then other obsessions intruded…as of now, I'm still more or less on hiatus as far as this fandom goes. However, I've had quite a few fanfics and beginnings of fanfics sitting already written in my writing notebooks, just waiting to be typed up and posted…so I've finally decided to do that. This being the case, expect a decently large influx of Russ/Holmes fanfics within the next little while.
As to this particular fic…it's a poem from Holmes' POV (as if he actually wrote poetry!) that goes during the last part of BEEK. Enjoy (I hope), and review please!
In memory of summer days
Spent soaking up the sun's warm rays,
While idle chatter moves our tongues
And flower aromas fill eager lungs…
In memory of winter nights,
And flickering, dancing firelight,
Which shadows casts o'er white and black—
Oh, that these times would now come back!
These carefree days of golden yore
Which now are gone, can be no more...
The loom on which our friendship wove
The threads of unrequited love—
For love it was; I cannot lie.
That love still lives, and still I sigh
To hear her voice, or see a ray
Of sunlight from its master stray
To fall as water down her back;
From that time on, the sun shall lack
That shard of light, which chose instead
To dwell upon an angel's head.
But I cannot now see these things;
For now I have become a king,
And she must therefore act as bait
To trap the hunter—check and mate.
And so I wait and watch and fear.
"It's elementary, my dear,"
A voice inside taunts constantly,
And echoes from the enemy.
And all the time, that mocking voice
Is pushing me to make a choice:
Should I continue this strange act;
Keep life and liberty intact?
Or better yet to use time gained;
Avoid the need for so much pain;
Ignore the fast-approaching knife,
And, having loved her, give up life?
My head screams, "See her now, today!"
My heart says, "There's a better way.
For now she's lonely; this I mourn.
But worse still: dead—not to be borne!"
My self-control must now prevail;
It cannot be allowed to fail.
Our trickery must not be seen-
I cannot, will not, lose my queen.
A/N: Hope this isn't too bad/OOC. Please review and let me know what you think! Constructive criticism is welcomed. Do not flame me. Should these commands be ignored, a disaster beyond your imagination will occur.
Your obedient servant,
hbpm