Disclaimer: Copyrights of Yohji belong to Takehito Koyasu & Kyoko Tsuchiya
Mornings are bleak. So were nights. But the bringing of darkness could shadow everything. Anything. He could hide behind those curtains. But for how long? How far?
Fear. Life's source depletes as day turns to night. Where could he find refuge? From what?
Sorrows drowned not in bitter wine, but in the sweetness of death. Would it really work?
The anticipation of death mounts with each drop of time. Burdens meant not to be thrown, but to be carried, and let fall. Only when life itself is truly tired will it fade away like candle wax, and disappear into the dimness of tomorrow. That tomorrow would never come.
Wisps of cigarette smoke wavered its pattern into the crisp morning air. He crushed the ends of the stick into the ashtray, crumbs of dust and cigarette ash spilling over the edges of the container. Rays of sunlight streaked the room with glorious light. It irritated him. He grumbled as he groped for the blinds, reaching out and pulling them shut. Yohji flopped back onto the soiled bed sheets, and reached for another smoke.
The ceiling looked so empty. Dull. Like his life. The skies so bloody blue. Who cares? No one. Well, at least not him.
But he USED to care. A lot. When she was around.
"Asuka."
Wanderings into the mist.
Am I strong?
I sought for light, for warmth against the chill of the winds and the rains.
But forces all oppose me.
Defying me.
Keep pacing.
Light glitters ahead of me.
Is that hope.
Or just wishful thinking....
Salty froths washes my feet.
Wiping away all traces of footprints.
As I look back
I see nothing
Thick fogs smog my view.
View over the distant lands.
Beautiful shades of green flashes red.
Washes away red.
Kills red.
No.
Nothing can
Defeat the defeated once more.
Pace through the bloodied fields.
Of hatred.
Souls.
Nights past.
Even a breath of fresh air mulls the soul
What to do?
Too many dreams unfulfilled.
Too many..
Crushed and whisked into the depths of the corners.
Of my room.
Of my thoughts.
Of my soul.
Soot clusters around my vision.
Blinding.
Hurting.
The pain.
Frustration.
Masticates into me. I suffer.
Tears shed to blood.
What for?
Sought for blind Justice.
Hah, miserable.
Am I beautiful alone?
- End -
Mornings are bleak. So were nights. But the bringing of darkness could shadow everything. Anything. He could hide behind those curtains. But for how long? How far?
Fear. Life's source depletes as day turns to night. Where could he find refuge? From what?
Sorrows drowned not in bitter wine, but in the sweetness of death. Would it really work?
The anticipation of death mounts with each drop of time. Burdens meant not to be thrown, but to be carried, and let fall. Only when life itself is truly tired will it fade away like candle wax, and disappear into the dimness of tomorrow. That tomorrow would never come.
Wisps of cigarette smoke wavered its pattern into the crisp morning air. He crushed the ends of the stick into the ashtray, crumbs of dust and cigarette ash spilling over the edges of the container. Rays of sunlight streaked the room with glorious light. It irritated him. He grumbled as he groped for the blinds, reaching out and pulling them shut. Yohji flopped back onto the soiled bed sheets, and reached for another smoke.
The ceiling looked so empty. Dull. Like his life. The skies so bloody blue. Who cares? No one. Well, at least not him.
But he USED to care. A lot. When she was around.
"Asuka."
Wanderings into the mist.
Am I strong?
I sought for light, for warmth against the chill of the winds and the rains.
But forces all oppose me.
Defying me.
Keep pacing.
Light glitters ahead of me.
Is that hope.
Or just wishful thinking....
Salty froths washes my feet.
Wiping away all traces of footprints.
As I look back
I see nothing
Thick fogs smog my view.
View over the distant lands.
Beautiful shades of green flashes red.
Washes away red.
Kills red.
No.
Nothing can
Defeat the defeated once more.
Pace through the bloodied fields.
Of hatred.
Souls.
Nights past.
Even a breath of fresh air mulls the soul
What to do?
Too many dreams unfulfilled.
Too many..
Crushed and whisked into the depths of the corners.
Of my room.
Of my thoughts.
Of my soul.
Soot clusters around my vision.
Blinding.
Hurting.
The pain.
Frustration.
Masticates into me. I suffer.
Tears shed to blood.
What for?
Sought for blind Justice.
Hah, miserable.
Am I beautiful alone?
- End -