Well yes I was bored and after getting severly told off by for recent escapades I am writing nicely.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: If Holmes was left alone in this world.
How clear, how lovely bright
He sat bitter and defeated against a tombstone, his hand lying against his knee, the other grasped tight around a bottle. The sunlight fell upon him, haloing him in an arc of gold, his light hair glistening.
How beautiful to sight, those beams of morning play,
He watched the sun pour down upon the land around him, lighting up the furthermost corners and lifting them into daytime. He sighed at his own sentimentality and took another swig of the intoxicating liquid before him.
How heaven laughs out with glee, where like a bird set free,
He could hear those bloody birds cawing above him, their beaks open and ready to pick the meat off him.
"I am not actually dead yet," he muttered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and then addressing the birds, "Fancy a drink?"
Up from the eastern sea, soars the delightful day,
The seagulls ignored him and wheeled in great circles, ready to fight off the crows that lurked in the bell tower. A gust of salty wind blew grit up into the man's eyes and he cried his shame and desperation. Why was he here? Why did he lie so pathetic and lonely as this?
Today I shall be strong
He climbed shakily to his feet, letting the breeze lift him, playing with his hair. He would not be conquered.
No more shall yield to wrong, shall squander life no more,
With a loud cried of defiance he tossed the bottle over the edge of the cliff on which he stood. The rest of his vices, the drugs, the drink, would all have to go. Go away. This was his life, and he was to live it.
Days lost, I know not how, I shall retrieve them now,
They would be worried about him. They would ask him where he had been and he would not be able to reply. For he knew only of where he woke, alone and cold next to a freshly dug grave.
Today I shall keep the vow I have never kept before,
Oh and only for you, he thought brushing the mud and grass off his trousers. For you I will live on. He smiled at the beautifully blue, clear sky and spread his arms to encompass all in his embrace.
"Do you hear me?" he called into the wind, "I live for you!"
Ensanguining the sky, how heavily it dies,
It was late as he approached the house, the sun dipping from the sky, falling to the sea. A woman ran to meet him, tears streaking down her face, desperate for comfort. He held her gently and whispered the words she wished to hear softly against her hair.
Into the west away
Beyond sight touch and sound,
There was no going back. No way to save those that had gone. All was done and the dead were beyond the comforts of living. All that could be done was remember.
Not further to found,
He tried to go back to that cliff, tried to leave the sobbing woman who clutched at him. But he could not. Here were the cords that bound him, his responsibilities and loyalties.
How hopeless underground,
A little boy walked slowly towards him. Gently, he took the woman's hand and led her away. His black mop of hair glinted in the fading sun and as he turned, he smiled.
Holmes returned the smile and looked out toward the sea. I will look after them old friend, he said to someone he could not see, You have my word, we shall remember you.
Falls the remorseful day.
Thoughts please. Thank you. xhx