Disclaimer: I don't own Tales of Symphonia or anything related to it.
Authoress's note: This is a poem I wrote about Presea one night when I couldn't sleep. I really like Presea's character and longed to write about her, but, sadly, I had no ideas. Thus, I decided with to start out with this short poem. It might be a little confusing to those of you who don't really read poetry that much, but unlike most A/Ns at for poetry I'm not going to tell you the meaning, so you'll just have to figure it out for yourself.
Aside Myself
How long has it been
Since I was able to cry?
One who is caught up in such self-pity,
One who is filled with such ceaseless sorrow…
One… such as I,
It is only natural,
That they long to cry.
I can only dream of the days
When we used to run through that boundless meadow,
When we used to laugh, when we used to cry…
However, so much time has flowed on since then,
And unable to flow on with those countless days, months and years that have passed by;
I sit aside,
And I ask myself, 'where was I?'
My tears have ceased there flowing,
Leaving my heart dry.
Never again shall I see such days,
When all we used to do was play,
We had not a care in the world up… up until the day
When our flower in that boundless meadow
Shriveled up and died.
Unable to move on,
Unable to forget,
And…
Unable to cry,
I sit aside myself
And ask 'why?'
…One can only pity
A lost soul such as mine.