Yokaiko Reflection Poem Series: Miserable Life
I've walked this earth for what seems like an eternity when nothing could be further than the truth.
Every Day is the same old thing: Either surrender to the will of another or Fight an endless battle.
Unable to accept defeat, blamed by life cruel and harsh, I stand alone against the pure storm
Refusing to weather or bend to the harsh winds of Oppression.
While most see purity and light in the world, I see only darkness and corruption.
Even so, to protect the one who means all to me, I will not bow before the Empress in White.
For, in this world of greed, destruction and conquest, that is the only option.
Still, I cannot help but ask 'What kind of Life is this?'
Prestige, power and wealth are pointless, hallow objects in these old young eyes.
Left by the ghosts who brought me and my little one like trash on the street.
Taking with them the few things I crave: Innocence, hope and purity.
Instead, All I get is is his Miserable life of Survival, Suffering and Pain.
I try with all my might to got unseen by all, hoping that none step in my path.
Yet they stand still before me, threatening what little I have with their ignorance or cruelty.
Knowing the vicious cycle of violence, something people of my time know not.
I stand defiantly, absorbing what I can, pushing through the fallen crimson and white shards through will.
Even after all is said and done, as I lay on the cold giver of life, sweet darkness approaching.
The faces of the devils above loom over me, whispering the unthinkable to me.
Nothing but pure will pushing me forward, I swipe and swing, unable to even slow them.
They laugh, the sound piercing me like thousands of knives at my attempt, turning my blood to ice.
Then, as I felt myself fall on that flat surface, a hope shines in verde, arising to my aid.
He reaches out a hand, showing a single smiling face among thousands of smirking masks.
From that forth, we stand together as kin, bonds forged by blood and blade.
But even this small pleasure is taken from me, in three cycles time.
The Empress in White, in her Alexandrian march across the land that the new born sun touches.
Has set her icy gaze on our little land, the rumbling of her destruction heard in the distance.
Though I wanted to stand and fight against The corrupt White Queen, but fate dragged me away
And my brother in blood and blade fell to her corruption, the Empress in White taking what little I had.
Now, I walk this world, lone except for the one I protect, weary and tired of the white darkness that surrounds us.
I stand before the Empress in White's Cruelty, still alone in my battle to protect.
I wish I could rest, dream away from this miserable life into the eternal slumber.
But I persevere, knowing that I alone can protect those close to me, even if I lose the will to.
One day, a day that seemed like any other, shoes clicking agaqinst marble tiles, echoing in empty halls
I received a message from a person most unexpected: My brother in blood and blade.
Inviting me to the Empress I White's stronghold, promising better life for me and my protectee.
Though reluctant, I came to her with just one vow: I will not bow to her oppression.
Even if I must live this miserable Life.