Written half-way through reading 'Make Lemonade' (I kinda stole the writing style) and listening to an Enya CD, wherefrom I stole the title. It's sorta a poem, sorta not. It's pretty long too... Enjoy and remember to review!
Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha. I don't own Enya's music either.
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There are some moments
you know you'll never forget;
days that go by slowly,
and words people say
that mean so much,
you almost want to
cry and hold them,
because you know
they weren't lying.
Everybody lies these days.
The fire crackles,
burning hot since sundown.
Alighting us,
our small spot in
this large, insane world.
Amidst everything.
The light flickers
casting shadow further
into the forest around us.
Darkness.
A whimper
comes from off to my left.
And only I hear it,
for I'm the watcher tonight.
I couldn't sleep anyways...
Again, she stirs,
skin tinted with
fireglow and soft tendrils
of hair curl on her flushed cheeks.
She murmurs incoherently,
as if a nightmare
plagues her.
My Sango.
She looks distressed as her hand
twitches, reaching
for something not there.
Again she cries,
but there are no tears
on her cheeks, no.
She's too strong for that.
My Sango.
Breath coming in gasps,
her eyes have yet to open.
No, she should sleep.
Its barely midnight,
she should sleep.
No one else is awake
to hear her.
I wonder if she knows
I can hear her.
Leaning over,
I reach a hand out to her forehead.
She's not sick,
she's too strong for that.
It's hard for me to believe sometimes,
that she bleeds like the rest of us.
Of course, she's bled so much...
I leave my hand of her forehead,
a nightmare indeed.
I draw slightly away to sit by her.
Not too close,
she wouldn't want that.
She'd think I was trying something.
I look back to the fire,
crackling, providing
warmth on this autumn night,
the leaves are just beginning to turn.
And then her fingers,
encircle my wrist,
not quite forceful, as they
slip down.
Unsure.
Her eyes open,
just half-way,
eyelashes dark and short.
Casting their own umbra
across her face.
Her lips move,
but sound is empty,
save for the crackling of the fire.
"You should sleep," I tell her.
And yet my fingers,
tighten round her hand,
not wanting to let go.
You should sleep, my Sango,
I'll be watching
over you.
"Houshi-sama," she mumbles, and
sighs.
She falls back into dream.
No more nightmares
for my Sango.
And I wonder if she will remember this,
in the morning.
