A/N: Hello again.. Thanx to those who are reading the story. All I have to
say is, sorry if you don't like it. Also, there is a sequel, but you will
have to wait until I write it out first. Then I will type it. This story
was not meant to end this way, but a couple things in my life influenced
it. Forgive. Anyways, anytime you wanna chat with me, send an email or add
me to your msn messenger.
~Kitsune~
Depression is my friend, despression is my foe, depression shall be my
folly.
Let the world lament, but still I shall be free, for the fleeting pain of
life soon subsides into the black comfort of the drug called Death.
Disclaimer: I wish I owned it, but I've learned wishing doesn't get me anywhere. Life is a dead end anyways. Why bother? And LOTR is beyond even my wishes. --=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- -=--= If beauty is pain, cannot the opposite hold true; cannot pain be beauty? Mortality is beautiful, but painful. It is a corset upon humankind, shaping us into an aesthetically pleasing thing but hurting the wearer at the same time. The beautiful corset is what makes us as we are, yet with each passing second it is cinched tighter until, at last, it kills us. For some, the strings are pulled too tight, too fast; for other they are pulled tight enough to cause unceasing pain without causing death. As Arwen was fated to watch the corset tighten around others without feeling its final pull herself, so was Trunks. But unlike Arwen, he did not have the comfort of his lover to pass the time. He was doomed to watch the years crawl by and find little joy in their passing. He was a young man, not even into his prime in Saiyan terms. His hair would remain untouched by age's first snow for fifty or more years. The crinkles of happiness would not stamp their mark next to his eyes like crows feet for some time yet and the pouchiness associated with age would never mar his features. But his eyes would say he was older. The haunted eyes possessed by an old man who has watched Death claim all who were dear to him would belong to Trunks. Eyes that were blank and scarred behind a sheer stage-curtain of happiness would shine in his face throughout his life. His haunted eyes were the effect of love. Cupid's arrow had flown too late. Cupid left his target to a cold and lonely life with the corset strings tight enough to pinch but not mercifull enough to kill. As so Trunks lived out his life. He watched as his mother grew old and died, his father following not long after. He watched as his little sister grew up, married, and had kids of her own. He watched as the Son family gradually grew farther and farther from his own until the happy times of Brief/Son picnics became only a fond memory. He watched as Bra's children grew up and also had kids. He watched, and waited. He particpated in life only when neccessary, leaving all that he once was in the past. He watched and waited for the corset strings to finally pull tight enough to kill him. But, it took a long time. Trunks was unable to simply stop living because love was gone like his father, Vegeta, had done. And som he lived. Lived a half-life until he passed away. When this event finally came, Trunks was an old man in every sense. His lilac hair shone silver and the corners of his eyes were wrinkled from a gagle of crow's feet. He was hunch-backed from Time's weight and he looked age-worn and tired. He went peacefully in his sleep and left the troubled world behind. He went to rejoin the Pattern and wait his turn for rebirth, for a second chance at life and happiness. For the Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend, then fade to myth, and are long forgot when that Age come again. In one Age, called the Third Age by some, an Age yet to come, an Age long past, a wind rose over two graves. The wind was not the beginning. There are neither beginnings nor endings to the turning of the Wheel of Time. But, it was a beginning of a second chance.
True Love Truly Conquers All
Disclaimer: I wish I owned it, but I've learned wishing doesn't get me anywhere. Life is a dead end anyways. Why bother? And LOTR is beyond even my wishes. --=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- -=--= If beauty is pain, cannot the opposite hold true; cannot pain be beauty? Mortality is beautiful, but painful. It is a corset upon humankind, shaping us into an aesthetically pleasing thing but hurting the wearer at the same time. The beautiful corset is what makes us as we are, yet with each passing second it is cinched tighter until, at last, it kills us. For some, the strings are pulled too tight, too fast; for other they are pulled tight enough to cause unceasing pain without causing death. As Arwen was fated to watch the corset tighten around others without feeling its final pull herself, so was Trunks. But unlike Arwen, he did not have the comfort of his lover to pass the time. He was doomed to watch the years crawl by and find little joy in their passing. He was a young man, not even into his prime in Saiyan terms. His hair would remain untouched by age's first snow for fifty or more years. The crinkles of happiness would not stamp their mark next to his eyes like crows feet for some time yet and the pouchiness associated with age would never mar his features. But his eyes would say he was older. The haunted eyes possessed by an old man who has watched Death claim all who were dear to him would belong to Trunks. Eyes that were blank and scarred behind a sheer stage-curtain of happiness would shine in his face throughout his life. His haunted eyes were the effect of love. Cupid's arrow had flown too late. Cupid left his target to a cold and lonely life with the corset strings tight enough to pinch but not mercifull enough to kill. As so Trunks lived out his life. He watched as his mother grew old and died, his father following not long after. He watched as his little sister grew up, married, and had kids of her own. He watched as the Son family gradually grew farther and farther from his own until the happy times of Brief/Son picnics became only a fond memory. He watched as Bra's children grew up and also had kids. He watched, and waited. He particpated in life only when neccessary, leaving all that he once was in the past. He watched and waited for the corset strings to finally pull tight enough to kill him. But, it took a long time. Trunks was unable to simply stop living because love was gone like his father, Vegeta, had done. And som he lived. Lived a half-life until he passed away. When this event finally came, Trunks was an old man in every sense. His lilac hair shone silver and the corners of his eyes were wrinkled from a gagle of crow's feet. He was hunch-backed from Time's weight and he looked age-worn and tired. He went peacefully in his sleep and left the troubled world behind. He went to rejoin the Pattern and wait his turn for rebirth, for a second chance at life and happiness. For the Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend, then fade to myth, and are long forgot when that Age come again. In one Age, called the Third Age by some, an Age yet to come, an Age long past, a wind rose over two graves. The wind was not the beginning. There are neither beginnings nor endings to the turning of the Wheel of Time. But, it was a beginning of a second chance.
True Love Truly Conquers All