Quick Note: This is a poem I wrote yesterday, while working on my commemorative speech . . . I mean, (cough) when I didn't have a single important thing to do. It's somewhat dark-ish, so if blood or imperiled moths or dead kitties disturb you, then I'd recommend clicking the back button. (For the record, I could never harm a kitty.)
Posted in the Yu-Gi-Oh! section because, althoughthis does not explicitly mention the anime, I did write it with two specific characters in mind. I'll leave it up to you to determine who they are. Note that the Japanese words "Yami" and "hikari" could possibly apply to anyone fitting that description, and were also chosen for their connotations of "darkness" and "light," respectively.
Manditory Disclaimer: This poem is mine, but the Game King is not. Don't threaten to sue 'cause I own diddly-squat.
Aesthetics
When a cat catches a mouse,
It does not kill it directly, but waits,
Extending moment after flickering moment to its prey,
Before catching it again, snatching hope, awaiting that
Perfect deadly moment.
It appreciates the game, you see,
The surprise, chase, sweet anticipation of victory,
Like the sweet blood and despair of the mouse.
Your blood is sweet too, hikari, as I'm sure I've told you;
In fact, you are very like that mouse, wide-eyed and frightened
And you always cry when the cat prevails.
So, because your tears are so pretty,
I've found a little cat for you.
Surprise!
Yami--how round your eyes grow with liquid shock--what have you done?
I killed it, silly!
Killed it dead, and spilled its little kitty blood
From its little kitty veins
Onto the white, white snow.
It was alone, you see, shivering but so pretty!
Just like you.
And it came to me, so trusting, as you did when we first met.
I chose it because it couldn't catch a mouse
And I know that suffering makes you sad
So I killed it with my own silver knife
--Such a good knife, hikari.
You should know; you've felt its caresses more than once.
How funny!
My hikari has stabbed me with my own silver knife
And now he's trying to run away!
How funny indeed!
He's becoming more like me all the time.
Because I too love the game, I let him escape
But not really.
When I catch him, he
Kicks
And
Screams,
Eyes flashing like they only do when he's really angry.
Then I hold the knife to his throat and he becomes still.
You're getting clever hikari--you tried to hurt me.
I'm proud of you.
But now I must teach you a lesson, so pay attention.
Look, hikari, look at the blood on the silver blade;
My blood--I bet you didn't know I had any.
It's just like yours--see?--though not as sweet.
Smell it! Taste it! Stop trying to turn your head, or it will cut you!
See, I told you it would; now it will sting.
If you listened, these things wouldn't happen.
Feel your breath on the blade,
Blood on your tongue, salty
Like your lovely tears;
If I touch it just below your eyes, your tears will turn almost-red.
Look hikari! My knife can cry too!
Please Yami . . . stop it . . .
If I do, you'll never learn anything.
Concentrate! Note the sharpness of the blade as it traces your skin-so-soft.
Your arms are like dolls' arms, so fragile and small, so unlike mine.
Feel the pain, the sharpness as I make the little cut--
Not big! Itsy-bitsy!
So just a few warm drops surface,
Tremble,
Then fall to the cold, cold ground.
Ahh, look hikari!
Glowing beads of scarlet
On the perfect snow,
Like that smudge of blood on your cheek.
It compliments the tears in your dark eyes.
Dear hikari, why are you crying?
You scare me, Yami. Please, leave me alone.
Poor hikari.
When will you learn that there's nothing to fear?
Well, except me, of course,
But I will keep you
And love you
Like a spider loves its moth.
I don't want you to love me.
Oh, but you do.
You do because you made me this way,
As you made every facet of me:
my
Insanity,
my
Cruelty,
my
Love;
A dark reflection from the mirror of your soul.
I love you because you loved me first, and feared me,
As the prey fears the hunter for its love;
They are intertwined,
Bound, by circumstance's
Silken threads,
As we are.
And we ARE so perfect together, hikari,
Your soft light against my darkness,
Like dark clouds embracing the moon,
Or shadowy threads against a moth's bright wings.
For that is the meaning of aesthetics:
Opposites, drawn together,
Striking, complimentary, perfect,
Beauty and horror and exquisite conflict;
A quivering drop on a silver blade.
These humans don't understand that; never will.
Gaudy, tactless mortals, painting shadows
On their faces; grotesque mockeries,
Of true beauty
Though even they get lucky sometimes.
But you understand, hikari.
I know you do.
Weare that struggle; you, the moth in my web,
Delicate and lovely
And strong--you must be strong for me to love you,
Or you wouldn't survive.
And I love the way you fight me,
The way you shudder when I lick the blood from your cheek,
And the way I know, deep down, you love it too
And you enjoy the way I always win
--And I DO always win, hikari, remember that--
As the spider, the cat, the hunters
Always win.
Because you can't let me go,
And I won't let you go.
I will hold you close, for ever and ever and ever,
Until eternity slips through the hourglass
And we both go out
Like candle flames
Together.