Kind of like a poem, but more of a rambling if you ask me. What if Enjolras had given up on his revolution? How Grantaire would have reacted.
I don't really think this classifies as a poem, but I don't know.
Once upon a time,
When I looked into your eye
I could see it burning with a passion,
You were a fire that could light the night,
The icy dreams of revolution lit your eyes,
You said your only love was the great and Glorious Patria,
You lied to me,
Because it seems to me,
Your mind is breaking down,
You hardly ever speak your words to me,
Apollo what happened to your passion,
Because one second you're a fighter,
Then you've gone and dropped the ball,
And I say,
Your head has gone mad,
Your words have gone flat,
It brings me so low to see a god on the floor,
If your passion of the sun is gone forever,
Then we'll be getting floods in your great Patria,
Where is the fire I used to love see burn the line
Between heaven and hell,
The great Apollo wants to hide,
All I know is that our world is now dead
The rain and the sun,
Compressed into one,
The day my Apollo killed what he had,
Killed the passion, the love, the need, the want,
When I looked at you,
I saw the world reborn in your eyes,
I saw a new planet reborn from the ashes of your revolution,
And the river of your blood,
I saw your words of freedom blossoming like a sweet strawberry
In an empty field where everything but you is to die
Now,
When I look into your eyes,
I see nothing but a sea of blue,
A sea of depression,
A sea of lost love for the world you wanted,
It's nothing now.
I see nothing