For a moment

It was as if

All blood

Had drained out of him

But now

Find the strength

Step.

She was long gone

Yet

He could still

Catch her.

Could?

Will.

Like a golden cloud

To the wind

He must follow

Make a leap

Beyond the edge

This time

Over the abyss.

Out of grasp

Yet

Within reach.

Pairs of eyes

Spectators

Gazing at him

The play had reached its climax

The audience

Expects

Resolution.

A certain shade of pink

Beside a noirette

Distinct contrast

Icy blue and peach.

Certainly shocked

Perhaps even agitated

But possibly

Hopeful.

Hoping

No more

Drastic

Rotten measures

Methods

Which they so despised

A reminder

There was still a request

To fulfill.

Save her.

He will.

Not just because it was a request.

Because even he

Cynical and crude

Had come to accept

Love.

Love a woman

Not for who she was

But for who she is.

And possibly

Consider

Maybe he could earn

The privilege

Return

Finally break away

Break out

From his self-induced isolation.

Craft the paddle

Build a raft

Escape

From the damned

Desert island

Rejoin her.

He was cast out

Marooned

Yet it should not be a reason

Not to sail again.

Each step

Heavy

Stiffed

But slowly

Surely

Lighter.

Zero

But the timer

Start again.

No doubt

This journey

Will have an end

But now

Focus on the present.

The past will kill you with regret.

The future kills with anxiety.

By deduction, present may be the most survivable.

Satisfactory.

Now.

Where did she go?

A subtle sense of urgency

Each step

Faster

The staircase

Seemed long and winding

The air

Colder

Sharper

Beads of sweat

But not from exhaustion.

His tongue was dry

Swallow

But there was none

Signs

Fear?

Opening the door

He shivered

Gust of wind

An icy punch

The light stung his eyes

Relative silence

Hissing at him.

Now

Frantic

He looked around

Searching for a blonde hue

Under the gray sky

Nowhere to be found.

Walk

Inspecting

Seeking

Fingers crossed

Nearing an edge.

He cursed under his breath.

Agonizing truth

He was either too late

Or

He had made a fatal blunder.

Once again

Coldness

Gripping him

Difficult to breathe

Oxygen be damned

His chest was heavy

Limbs threatening to fail

But he cannot fall.

To think of it, why did he come here?

Of all places

Which way did she flee

But he could not remember.

Epiphany

He was guided

By an insidious prediction.

Cold chill down his spine.

If he sat down now

He may never stand up again.

Had he assumed

Worst case scenario

Feasible

Yet

Illogical?

Rooftop.

A cliché.

But no!

It cannot be.

Such is youth.

On the contrary

History does not repeat itself.

But it is a source of pattern.

Had he presumed

A pitiful expectation

Of the proud queen?

How disrespectful of me.

She will do no such thing.

A fire that burns brighter

The harder the rain.

It cannot be put out

By a simple conflict.

Can it?

Dangerous

But a possibility.

Expect the unexpected.

Do not expect

In order not to be

Disappointed.

She is just a girl after all.

Move on

Keep walking

Time is of essence

In this case

Difference

Between ruin

Or recovery.

Faster.

He knew

Where to

Next.

Should he be wrong again

It may be too late.

Time is ticking.

Figment

Imagination

Hallucination?

Traces

Red

Drops

Blood?

His hands

Cold and pale

The road ahead

Long and winding

Constructions seemed

Sky high

And he could not

Look back.

Forward.

Propelled by anxiety

Perhaps fear

Insidious thoughts

Behind him

Giving chase

Ironically

Urging him on.

He had to be wrong.

It cannot be what he was thinking.

Desperation

Drive people

Over the edge

Figuratively

Literally.

He had to reach her.

Pull her up.

Before it is too late.