Synopsis: Because Le Cygne is the most touching thing I've ever listened to, here is a crappy poem from me to you. Written on a whim.
A/N: My first (ok that's a lie, but the point is, I do not usually do poetry) and shoddy attempt at poetry. I'm proud of it, nonetheless, but to be completely honest, it's not the greatest thing I've ever written. I honestly don't know why I wrote this in the first place, so late during the night. Read and review at you discretion.
A/N 2: Hello again! I have decided to condense all my one-shots into one collection, because I have an obsession with multi-chapter fics. So, to start off this collection of stories, here is an opening poem I wrote a year ago. Will I edit this so that it is clearer? Haha, no. I am so terrible at poetry. Continue to the next chapter for a story if that is more your thing.
SETTING—
The stage contains a table at the side:
On it are three slices of honey bread.
One figure dons a hat with white feathers;
Another stands all the way across on
The other end, behind those loose curtains.
The spotlights shine a clear view of the stage.
A soft glow of heavenly music starts.
Everything starts, never to start again.
The shining armored knight leans o're the window
Picking apart clumps of fresh baked honey bread.
His hair, that wondrous shade of sunny spot
Shaded by the swimming bird's feathers—wait,
What? What could they be; this color so rare?
Pure as the summer breeze, washing over
Skin hot as coals—What is with this weather?
Something sweet, he aught to share, something sweet.
CHARACTERS—
Our hero sits atop the stage's floor.
His eyes pierces upwards at early stars.
There is heaven, so close he can reach it.
Yet when he tries, there is only longing.
Our heroine sits elevated.
The distance is closer, but still too far.
Her hands are idle at her side and she
Carries nothing but the senses she loves.
The pond where he is standing holds still when
Two song birds fly over and like a small
Flute, you sing your notes to unmoved worlds:
If I listen with ears from afar I hear
The chorus of two song birds fluttering.
You sing from your heart—oh such cliche thoughts;
I can only hum this tune, my music
Soar past, unable to return, to cry...?
He carries his wish where his glance directs,
Upon that zenith unable to touch.
Surely, if I could still smell that sweetness
Then may I return, standing by his side
Yet that bridge between him and I is still
Unfathomable. If only my heart...
Reaches out his hand, grasping with longing
Feathers take him away. I do not try.
PLOT—
The music suddenly rises and falls.
It is now autumn when leaves fall freely.
There is no tree visible on the stage.
Yet, the wind is clearly there, carrying
The senseless breeze of a summer's weather.
Summer vacation had ended for some.
Others continue to work, unable
To get away from their desks, home and work.
The moon hides itself behind the wake of
Early morning and so bright! Descending!
Leaves of color, so varied, wondrous!
Under this canopy, sealed off from the
Elements, I can imagine moments
Going forever. Then I hear, the flight of
Birds. Flap, flap. Fly and then gone to unknown
places far off where gone are my ears, my—
MUSIC—
For this final scene the sounds disappear.
Our hero comes home from a voyage.
He finds his wife sewing together the
Feathers that were formerly on his hat.
Our heroine stands, shock written on her.
They stand across much like the beginning.
But after everything, they are closer
Than they could ever hope or imagine.
Color my world, a shade other than
Dying beneath my feet; these annoying
Days, passing by far beyond what I wish,
I want. Spoiled child I am but I—
Am left speechless. Nothing, when passes by
The sill, behind those curtains white and clear.
Only the air which remembers when he
Carries those wings of swans to swan song's stop.
EPILOGUE—
Nothing because the feathers are not there.
They are quills, the same for writing with ink.
A dead rose thrown on the floor, unsweet.
Our hero finds no worth in his life.
In an expanse, divided by end bars
The summer day like every other day.
If only my heart... If only my cries...
I heard your lovely voice. I slept in tears.
A/N: Bleh, since I'm self conscience and this probably makes almost zero sense, here is a summary. The narrator goes to see a play and is then reminded of a boy in her childhood. She always wanted to be his friend, but she always feel someone as amazing as him will never be her friend. They eventually separated but the narrator still remembers him years later. By the time she finishes watching the play, the narrator tacks on an epilogue that changes the meaning of the ending. I'll leave that to your interpretation. I'm not too sure myself.