He thought it was wrong to die.
To leave someone behind, fragile and shattered
To let the world continue even though
(Why did you leave?)
(What do I do now?)
Tombstones cry long and loud
A tribute to the darkness we carry
(I feel something, finally.)
Metal couldn't cry
(Why did you make it so I had to?)
The world covered in soot and ash
That's one way to deal, he guessed
Soft hands brush fire
Things burned, everywhere
Until the passion in black eyes
Died.
They stare blankly.
The table yawns and they sit at either end
Silence echoing.
(You son of a bitch.)
(What did you do, Al?)
He grabbed the dark haired man's shirt at the funeral.
Why?
Raindrops splattered on a coffin
In the shining sunlight.
I'm sorry.
(He thinks the same but would never admit it.)
Where's the tools, Win?
"No use for those."
The boy watches as blue pools
Add to the rainfall
And suddenly he can't take it.
"WHY DID YOU DO IT?"
The man says nothing.
Bones shatter under a well-aimed fist
But he says
Nothing; because what is there to be said anymore?
("Accept the flow, Al.")
No.
It slips out of his mouth for the first time, strong and resolute.
No.
No!
NO!
NO, NO, NO.
No.
He won't.
He won't accept it
Something can be done
To bring back red gold and grey.
He would have to come back for him.
Help was all he needed.
(He loved your brother.)
(He won't come out, Al. Give it time.)
(What's so urgent? Can it wait, honey? I'm sorry.)
(He's more dead than he is alive.)
No. He wouldn't wait another minute.
(ALPHONSE! NO!)
Onyx eyes see
But don't comprehend.
A boy stares mutely
At the floor in some deranged horror
Seeing his blood spilled before him
But
Saying nothing.
Nothing; because what is there to be said anymore?
I won't wake up without Ed again.
(My god my god my god what did you do?)
You were too late, Colonel Mustang. I'm sorry.
What do you mean, not breathing?
Another funeral.
Another bout of sadness, drowned in whiskey and wine, brothels and sex.
(I'm sorry, Ed, that I didn't save you.)
(I'm sorry, Al, that I didn't stop you.)
Two stones.
That's all that is left.
A crimson coat, painted with blood, brushes against a tree and whispers with the breeze
(Where have you gone?)
(Who is that man who cries?)
The ashes of a family home weep alongside a blonde girl.
(I didn't go with Al.)
(Where's the sky now, Ed? You promised!)
Closure.
They seek closure, but there is none to be found.
The dark haired man smirks and the blonde girl works
But the crack is there
Protruding
Screaming
Clawing its way to the surface.
(I can't take it, Riza.)
(I can't take it, Granny!)
The cemetery gains two more headstones
Although invisible
They are there, because the dead drag us under too.
(They are more dead than they are alive.)
The world says nothing, nothing;
Because what is there to say anymore?
Only watches as they silently crack
To join those that go before them.
(I won't wake up again without Ed.)
(I won't wake up again without my boys.)
I'm sorry
They say
And the world thinks the same
But will never admit it
Because sorry doesn't cut it
So we say nothing
And they fall.
Like a soldier that gives his body for his brother's
Or the brother that gives his body for wasted hope on bringing the dead back.
They fall
Only not so loudly
They fizzle out of the world with no more than a whisper
And then there were four.
The weeds sprout around the first grave when the other two arrive
But now they are with the ones they sought.
And who, heaven nor hell
Could deny them that?
So the funeral crowd says nothing
Because there are a hundred things to say
But they are all hollow words.
Meaning nothing
To we who die.
He thought it was wrong to die-
but perhaps things must die
For new things to be born about in this world full of cycles and flow.
(Colonel. We won't forget about you.)
(Winry. You were a very sweet girl.)
(I'm sorry, Ed, that I couldn't save you)
(Where's the sky now, Ed? You promised!)
I love you.
That what was to be said.
-the end-
Something I coughed up, wanted to try a new format. Kudos to S.N Rainsworth for the inspiration.
If you don't get it, PM me and I'll explain.
Thanks for reading.