He had hair of the moon,
and eyes like the ocean.
His patience was boundless,
and his wisdom was great.
Experience taught him,
no longer the strict teachers,
and worn books.
His mind led his journey,
not his heart.
He couldn't trust it.
Emotions held him back,
got him into uncomfortable situations,
confused him,
controlled him.
This was painfully obvious,
being the friend of a certain goofy savior of hearts.
His friends stayed on his mind,
they were only a year younger than him,
but they might as well have been centuries younger.
His scars were deep,
his heart was an obstacle,
just another trial,
a puzzle.
His instincts were strong,
as was his mind.
He used them as his choice weapons.
Soon,
when his adventures were over,
then he would open himself to his toothy friends again,
soon enough his heart could take the lead.