I
am here to tell you we can never meet again
Simple really, isn't
it? A word or two and then
A lifetime of not knowing where or how
or why or when
You think of me or speak of me or wonder what
befell
The someone you once loved so long ago, so well
Gregor sat on his bed, his head in his hands, elbows on his
knees. The tears dripped slowly down his face. Why? Why did this need
to happen? What did he do wrong that had him deserve this?
Never
wonder what I'll feel as living shuffles by
You don't have to ask
me and I need not reply
Every moment of my life from now until I
die
I will think or dream of you and fail to understand
How a
perfect love can be confounded out of hand
Luxa lay on the cold stone, curled up to herself, crying. She
hadn't eaten in days, and nothing anyone could say or give her
could help. She knew she was letting Regalia down, but it was just
too much. How could she possibly go on doing her duties, knowing that
it would never amount to anything, that she'd just be a simple blip
in history? Wondering, every day, what the Overlander was doing.
Is it written in the stars?
Are we paying for some crime?
Is that all that we are good
for
Just a stretch of mortal time?
Gregor looked up, his hand reaching for his back pocket. What happened? "Luxa," he whispered, and the tears kept coming. All he had was a picture. And what did that say? Nothing. Nothing at all.
Is
this god's experiment
In which we have no say?
In which we're
given paradise
But only for a day
Luxa
began crying, surrendered to the tears that had been held back so
long, knowing that no matter what, there was nothing she could do in
her power to bring him back, to see his face.
Nothing
can be altered, there is nothing to decide
No escape, no change
of heart, nor any place to hide
Sometimes Gregor wished that he'd never even met her, that Boot's stupid ball hadn't rolled into the grate, that he hadn't ventured after her at all, so he couldn't know the pain. So he couldn't know the pain that he was enduring now.
You
are all I'll ever want but this I am denied
Sometimes in my
darkest thoughts I wish I'd never learned
Everything she ever wanted, anything she ever loved, gone. "Gregor," she whispered, tears streaming down her face. "Gregor!" The scream rose in her throat, and suddenly she was in the arms of Vikus, his warmth spreading to her body. But she pushed him away and ran, and didn't stop. To get rid of the pain. She didn't know where she was going. She just knew she was going away.
What
is to be in love and have that love returned
Was this feeling love, or simply lust? Gregor wondered. Luxa,
running in the tunnels throughout the Underland, wondered the same.
Is
it written in the stars?
Are we paying for some crime?
Is
that all that we are good for
Just a stretch of mortal time?
Is
this god's experiment
In which we have no say?
In which we're
given paradise
But only for a day
Was
there a prophecy? What was this? This…feeling? This regret? Gregor
punched a wall, his fist into the wall next to him, and the footsteps
came running to his door. He shrugged her off and left, running
through the cold New York snow, blood dripping onto the picture,
staining it forever. He dropped it and kept running. Running, from
all his problems, ignoring the cold, the pain, because none of them
could compare to this.
Is
this god's experiment
In which we have no say?
In which we're
given paradise
But only for a day...
They arrived at the same time, and Vikus pulled Luxa away, Gregor's father pulling him, all the while they both were screaming. "I love you!" the tears wouldn't stop falling, and they made a river on the ground. Until finally they were back where they belonged—or where everyone else thought they belonged. Because they knew they belonged together. The rock was moved into place, the door sealed shut. Gregor sobbed and sobbed, staring at the night sky. "I love you Luxa," he whispered, and the darkness enveloped him.
"I love you, Gregor," whispered Luxa, somewhere in the Underland. And sleep came.