Author's Notes: I apologized for slow updating paces, I have been swamped by deadlines! Nevertheless, searching for a muse for my story, a muse came to me, a poem to reflect Yuuki's grief over her loss of innocence and her altruism toward people. Technically, it is my attempt to reflect the character conflict within Yuuki from chapter 50 or before that. So, I hope anyone did notice the heavy symbolism in it and enjoy it nevertheless!
Knowledge: I didn't read beyond 3rd volume, and I picked all hints and pieces from fans from all websites that I visited. Thus, it is scattered.
Credis and Copyrights: This is ONLY for entertainment! And of course, characters from Vampire Knight always belong to their original creator, Matsuri Hino!
Summary: A old lady granted her a strange box and a riddle that left her pondering about her desire.
Holding a small brown box
With red laces plastered all around the box with finest white gloves that she could find,
she glanced with her brown eyes probing the box with great curiosity.
"Find a desire within your heart, the box will open to you."
An old lady hearty chuckled and placed her hand on the box.
Only if could those vividly independent creatures with wings
whisper secrets of desire from the heart to her. It would rescue her from inevitability.
A servant poured a tea into a golden trimmed ceramic cup and smiled her.
The Lady pulled the box into her stomach; does the tea provide a sincerity of hard labor?
Her fingers soon swallowed in angst to lift a cup or open the mysteriously box?
She nodded; her pearl necklace was for authenticity.
The bowing servant departed, she touched her necklace gently.
She startled, finding her face being shadowed by fluttering wings and chiming songs.
Her eyes fascinated with birds,
How ideal image of soaring and proud wings it had danced beyond her,
The caged green dome ached and yearned to crack open, embracing the blue openness.
"Maybe a bird in the greenhouse is my desire?
Good Fortune? Wealth? Fame? Lust? L—"A word struck a resonance.
Agitated with deep pang of grief, the green cage also cherished symbolism that radiates beauty.
Her fingers trembled; a cliche must never taint her lips, or her thoughts!
So deep red color wounded her, Red was not for sincerity!
Yet she cannot escape passion and woe from the claws of red.
"A terrible crossroad. A choice will betrays me, yet bless me.
Nevertheless, my heart ached, and flourished." Her lips tightened.
The desire! How that old woman pained her with that such riddle!
A strange pang echoed through her chest. Despite the angst, her hands knew the desire.
Her white gloved hands placed the box on the table, and then grabbed the tea.
Her eyes closed and her lips sipped the tea, listening to fluttering wings quietly.
Her will conquered the paradoxical desire,
Her spirit sang sincerity was the word that she never shall betray,
And it made her pearls pure white.