Rudy -- A Wild Arms Poem (Sonnet)

A boy, A holmcross who does not belong,
Living within the realms of living men.
With skin of metal and a human soul,
A living weapon, the last holmcross he.

Created by a long forgotten race,
Left as the last, forgotten in the ground.
His creators gone, a thousand years past,
Time passing, but time never touching him.

The child finally awakens from his sleep,
No knowlegde or memory of his past,
To a future of love and care unlike,
The life he did live so long before now.

The holmcross grandchild of Zepet Roughnight,
The dreamchaser Rudy Roughnight is he.