Tragedy
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By Valensia
You have come, like it was destined to. With your presence here the realization hits me like no million meteors could. Destiny does exist. Whatever I tried to undo in the past is of no consequence, nothing will ever change. I will perish under the strike of hate, again and again, in this and every timeline hereafter. And you, the dark angel with the heavenly eyes, you too will meet your destiny.
You draw your blade, pointing at me. Have you chosen me to be your key to happiness? Will you flourish with my death, like a parasite draining his object of their blood. If you would I'd gladly give my life, for I know now it means nothing. But I know you wouldn't, you would forever wander in a labyrint of questions. You are like a puzzel with a missing piece, forever destined to remain incomplete. You are unaware of what you could have been. You pretend to be like them, thinking you are fighting for the noble future. Drawing your sword like a misplaced chevalier in his quest for the princess. But you are no knight, my love. How can you protect anybody if you can't protect yourself? Protect yourself from the lies you tell yourself.
Do you know what the depraved tragic of all this is? You will never know. No matter how hard you try, this forbidden knowledge will never access your mind and you will forever go about in ignorance. What waste of such a beautiful mind, a mind that could have been enlightened in such delightful manner, but now instead is trapped in the venomous prejudice. The twisted philosophy gathered together in the mist of your denial.
Even as I watch you, the eternal contemplator, you don't see me for the simple reason you don't wish to. I'm the enemy, you tell yourself. Reassuring yourself again and again that you have a goal in life. How fascinating it is in its absurdness that one person could embody so many contradictions. You are the fearless warrior killing with doubt. You are the scholar who doesn't see the facts. The prince with no title. The warrior with no true strength. The darkness with no shadow. The lover with no passion and a fact with no truth.
Could it really be that you cease to exist beyond your body. Is there really nothing beyond those sparkling eyes who now gaze at me with their deadly intensity. Can one really watch without seeing?
How do you see me, my love? Am I another monster crossing your path, am I nothing but a pathetic embodiment of hate to you. Am I the villain in your story of no plot?
Even so, that doesn't make you a hero, my unwilling angel. You and I are alike, you too are traitor. You walked away from Garden to accomplish your goal, you sided with the enemy. You choose your own personal interest over the vow you made as a SeeD. You too have decided to become yourself instead of a title. How different does that make you from me?
Your blue eyes flicker for an instant. Have you heard my thoughts? Have you finally allowed me to enter your mind?
Still refusing to give in?
You are frightened. I can see that, beyond your confidence. You are afraid that should you answer, I will seduce you with rosy colored whispers. My foolish little angel. I couldn't even if I tried. You alone are the sole ruler of the landscape of your dreams. Seifer never was, he was always looking for reassurance, for the conformation that dreams could really come true, because he himself lacked the confidence to believe in them.
But you, my love, are devoid of dreams. You direct your path of life with the compass of reality, wishes do not exist in your world. You refuse to give into the ever luring arms of dreams. A stone to you is but a stone, but to others they are diamonds. The sky to you is but a collection of chemicals but to others it is heaven. Fantasy to you is senseless escapism but to others it is life.
What is reality? Nothing but a common perception. Is it fantasy when you paint it over with colorful wishes?
What does it matter? The blind will never see, the crippled will never walk and the damned will never get redemption. And you, my love, are damned to an eternity of self questioning without ever receiving the answer you so carefully avoid.
Your destiny is more tragic than mine. I know I will die under the flash of your blade, my sorrows will finally end with blood and I will be no more. But you, what will become of you, my dark brooding angel? You will continue, forever searching for the very thing you don't allow to exist. What you are looking for is fantasy. The fantasy of self acceptance, the fantasy of redemption, the wish of every philosopher, the truth.
The battle is nearing its end. The end of a story with no final revelation. You run towards me, standing closer to me than anyone has before. In the moment before you thrust your blade of misunderstanding in me, your eyes gaze into mine. My beautiful angel with the heart of a lion, how wonderful of destiny to allow such a heavenly apparition to be my final sight.
I'm sorry
I know you are, but you are sorry for the wrong reasons. Be sorry for letting a beauty like you go wasted into the darkness of ignorance. True valor does not lie in your sword but in your mind. You and you alone will always be the villain in your own story.
You will live without knowing why and that, my love, is more tragic than death.
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