Shelter
He calls me
Claiming it's a casual conversation
When he is really crying for help
We sit talking for hours
The only thing I can do for him
Holding him is treason
He talks of his dear friend
All the good times they had
While he covers up his sorrow
With anger and frustration.
His pain showed one night
As he came to my door claiming sleep never came
He becomes a frail child
Needing strength and warmth from someone else
For when it is raining,
He drowns in his weakness
I am that someone else
Riza Hawkeye about Roy Mustang