Phoenix Down & The Crimson King proudly present:
-----------
Lost
-----------
Chapter III
Dance in Frost
It hurt him.
Oh, it hurt him.
His mind wasn't clear anymore, he was like drunk, his limbs numb,
there was no pain anymore...
But that feeling was more than pain, it was like a bullet in the head.
He felt his brains burning, twisting in pain, and trough the mist
that was enveloping his mind, he could only see one thing: Her.
By his side, an old, battered, ruined diary whose pages, consumed by
the dust of time, danced like mad, turning back and forth.
"I wore my moods like so many different sets of clothes
but the right one was never around;
and as you left I heard my body ring
and my mind began to howl"
...
The yellowed pages swirled around.
--She is on the cliff, a light breeze gently blowing the brown locks
on her face.
She's crying.
Oh, how many times have I seen your cry, my Yuffie, crying lonely,
and I wanted so much to run up to you and bury your face in my cloak.
But I never had the courage.
I remained hidden behind a bush, a tree, a rock.
Looking at you.
I let someone else took my chance...
I'm a coward--
He shook his head to chase the thought of the girl away, but it would
return, return, return until he'd died.
It wouldn't take long.
He was paralyzed now, sitting on the edge of the frozen pond, his
back leaning against an old tree.
Looking out to the pond, a flattened plane of frost which bared no
Living things.
Footprints were stamped on it.
Someone had danced on it.
Someone who had the same shoe size as Vincent.
The feet stamped on the frost didn't follow any pattern, it was only
a nutcase's walzer.
A thin cloak of sleet covered the dying man.
You know that I need you, but somehow I don't think you see my love
at all
His crimson eyes shot wide open.
His parents.Shinra.Turks.Hojo.Lucretia.A golden claw, drenched with blood.Sephiroth.Coffin.Avalanche.Cloud.Yuffie.
Yuffie.
Yuffie.
At some point I lost you, I don't know quite how it was;
The wonderland lay in a coat of white, chilling frost
I looked around and I found I was truly lost:
He was lost, his soul gone with the wind, doomed to be a martyr of
Persecution for his whole life.
Without your hand in mine I am dead .....
Reality is unreal and games I've tried just aren't the same:
Without your smile there's nowhere to hide
and deep inside
His eyelids began falling shut.
I know I've never cried as I'm about to ...
If I could just frame the words that would make your fire burn
all this water now around me could be the love that
should surround me.
One last time.
The tears drew straight lines on his pale, half-frozen cheeks.
Looking out through the tears that bind me
my heart bleeds that you may...find me
He hoped she wouldn't get to know of his death.
He hoped she would think of him happily basking in the sun of a warm,
sunny beach.
Instead, he was freezing to death on the shores of an icy pond.
What a paradox.
As if moved by an invisible hand, the diary's pages moved through all
the delirium between the lines and eventually reached the last page.
--To whomever shall find me
Leave me.
~
There are far less things in life to dream about-- after one has dreamed of love.
"I can't believe that." Thought Tifa as she poured the cold coffee down the kitchen sink. The oil brown liquid formed a tiny tornado down as it tumbled into the black hole.
It sank into the pipes. Lost.
Marlene glanced up and nodded. "It's true. She wasn't wearing black."
"But, I didn't even see her there. That's not fair, you know. To Vincent." Tifa's blank expression made her pale voice seem even blander than it was. She felt empty. Funerals were meant to be sad. Why wasn't she wearing black? Didn't she know how Vincent felt about her?
"She should have worn black to his funeral." Tifa said matter of factly as she let the coffee maker fill with water. She moved the water around. Then dumped it out.
Marlene shrugged.
Tifa sighed.
Loss was something that happens to everyone else. It seems so dramatic when it is captured.
And yet, loss sets all things free. To loose a dream, to have one's hope shattered into a thousand pieces... only to have all shards to be set free like so many mourning doves. 'Lost' was merely a conundrum of deep-rooted love.
We are all lost.
Vincent was lost.
"Mom?" Marlene looked up curiously with wet brown eyes.
"I'm not your mom, sweetheart." Tifa replied. Her controlled voice softened at it's edges. She took a towel and dried the coffee pot.
"Where's Dad?"
"I don't know, baby. Lost, somewhere, maybe. I donno. He'll come back, soon."
Marlene fled from her chair at the table, and held onto Tifa.
Tifa lowered herself, and wept.
Vincent was gone.
And they were lost.
-----------
Lost
-----------
Chapter III
Dance in Frost
It hurt him.
Oh, it hurt him.
His mind wasn't clear anymore, he was like drunk, his limbs numb,
there was no pain anymore...
But that feeling was more than pain, it was like a bullet in the head.
He felt his brains burning, twisting in pain, and trough the mist
that was enveloping his mind, he could only see one thing: Her.
By his side, an old, battered, ruined diary whose pages, consumed by
the dust of time, danced like mad, turning back and forth.
"I wore my moods like so many different sets of clothes
but the right one was never around;
and as you left I heard my body ring
and my mind began to howl"
...
The yellowed pages swirled around.
--She is on the cliff, a light breeze gently blowing the brown locks
on her face.
She's crying.
Oh, how many times have I seen your cry, my Yuffie, crying lonely,
and I wanted so much to run up to you and bury your face in my cloak.
But I never had the courage.
I remained hidden behind a bush, a tree, a rock.
Looking at you.
I let someone else took my chance...
I'm a coward--
He shook his head to chase the thought of the girl away, but it would
return, return, return until he'd died.
It wouldn't take long.
He was paralyzed now, sitting on the edge of the frozen pond, his
back leaning against an old tree.
Looking out to the pond, a flattened plane of frost which bared no
Living things.
Footprints were stamped on it.
Someone had danced on it.
Someone who had the same shoe size as Vincent.
The feet stamped on the frost didn't follow any pattern, it was only
a nutcase's walzer.
A thin cloak of sleet covered the dying man.
You know that I need you, but somehow I don't think you see my love
at all
His crimson eyes shot wide open.
His parents.Shinra.Turks.Hojo.Lucretia.A golden claw, drenched with blood.Sephiroth.Coffin.Avalanche.Cloud.Yuffie.
Yuffie.
Yuffie.
At some point I lost you, I don't know quite how it was;
The wonderland lay in a coat of white, chilling frost
I looked around and I found I was truly lost:
He was lost, his soul gone with the wind, doomed to be a martyr of
Persecution for his whole life.
Without your hand in mine I am dead .....
Reality is unreal and games I've tried just aren't the same:
Without your smile there's nowhere to hide
and deep inside
His eyelids began falling shut.
I know I've never cried as I'm about to ...
If I could just frame the words that would make your fire burn
all this water now around me could be the love that
should surround me.
One last time.
The tears drew straight lines on his pale, half-frozen cheeks.
Looking out through the tears that bind me
my heart bleeds that you may...find me
He hoped she wouldn't get to know of his death.
He hoped she would think of him happily basking in the sun of a warm,
sunny beach.
Instead, he was freezing to death on the shores of an icy pond.
What a paradox.
As if moved by an invisible hand, the diary's pages moved through all
the delirium between the lines and eventually reached the last page.
--To whomever shall find me
Leave me.
~
There are far less things in life to dream about-- after one has dreamed of love.
"I can't believe that." Thought Tifa as she poured the cold coffee down the kitchen sink. The oil brown liquid formed a tiny tornado down as it tumbled into the black hole.
It sank into the pipes. Lost.
Marlene glanced up and nodded. "It's true. She wasn't wearing black."
"But, I didn't even see her there. That's not fair, you know. To Vincent." Tifa's blank expression made her pale voice seem even blander than it was. She felt empty. Funerals were meant to be sad. Why wasn't she wearing black? Didn't she know how Vincent felt about her?
"She should have worn black to his funeral." Tifa said matter of factly as she let the coffee maker fill with water. She moved the water around. Then dumped it out.
Marlene shrugged.
Tifa sighed.
Loss was something that happens to everyone else. It seems so dramatic when it is captured.
And yet, loss sets all things free. To loose a dream, to have one's hope shattered into a thousand pieces... only to have all shards to be set free like so many mourning doves. 'Lost' was merely a conundrum of deep-rooted love.
We are all lost.
Vincent was lost.
"Mom?" Marlene looked up curiously with wet brown eyes.
"I'm not your mom, sweetheart." Tifa replied. Her controlled voice softened at it's edges. She took a towel and dried the coffee pot.
"Where's Dad?"
"I don't know, baby. Lost, somewhere, maybe. I donno. He'll come back, soon."
Marlene fled from her chair at the table, and held onto Tifa.
Tifa lowered herself, and wept.
Vincent was gone.
And they were lost.