Disclaimer: I own NOTHING. I'm sick of saying it. I was thinking of the song 'Tears Don't Fall' by Bullet for My Valentine. I LOVE that song...
And of course, I put it with Vincent Valentine.
The poem that he wrote, I wrote it as I was writing this story.
Vincent had reached a point where he longed to get his emotions out. But he knew that he wouldn't let everything out verbally, so he had another choice. He never knew that it would come down to this, but it did. A guy like him,write poetry? He didn't think he'd ever do that, but he did.
He took a piece of wrinkled paper and a pen with dark red ink. It was naturally dark in his room, so it would be hard to write. There were torches on the walls, supplying little light. It was enough, he guessed. The bed he sat on was covered with a soft satin, dark red blanket. There was a window next to his bed, and he liked looking at the moon every night before he went to sleep. Somehow, it comforted him. To see the radiant white light reflect down on the dark, forbidding earth seemed somewhat blissful. The atmosphere around him was quiet, nothing seemed to disturb him. Solitude, that's what it was. Solitude...
To make him express his emotions, he wanted to think about what was hurting him inside. He wanted to think of things that made him the way he was today, but it was hard. The thought of Lucrecia came to his mind. He loved her so much, it was like no other love he felt before. In the end, it was a love that tore him to pieces. He began writing...
A love that was sent into flames, burned to ashes
Paper hearts, knives of love
Slicing through the paper flesh
Even now, one last figment of passion burns through my heart,
never fading
But it's better to burn out that fade away..
He wanted to write more. He knew there were way more emotions to get out. He thought of the experiance he had when he went to Lucrecia's cave. Seeing her form enveloped in crystals, her eyes closed, hands crossed at her chest, a blank yet sad expression of her face, it was enough to make his heart explode. How he longed to have one last touch, hold her hands close to him again, feel her presence. He wouldn't feel her presence, for her consciousness lives on inside him. (That was something that the directors who worked on Advent Children said. They said that Aeris' conscious lives on inside Cloud. It made me cry hehe). But the thought of her touch shattered. She would just pull away, and tell him to stay back... as she always did.
Reluctance, looking deep into the iris
reluctance to me, or love itself?
Love to you, was needed as much as air is.
Now because of the knives of thoughts,
I cry tears of blood
I cry only tears of blood...
Then, the thought of Hojo came to his head. Hojo was his worst enemy. It was because of Hojo that he blamed himself for Lucrecia's death. 'I should have protected her from that bastard,' Vincent thought to himself. That thought just burned away. 'Hm. She would just pull away from me, like she always did... Pull away, tell me to stay away...' he thought. Tapping the pen on the piece of paper, he thought again.
Taken away, snatched from my very grasp
Taken from me as easy as one hit
something so complicated as life,
became the easiest thing for you to mutilate
Mutilation, complication,
hemorrhage, all your best qualities
Because of your needles of thought,
I cry tears of blood
I only cry tears of blood...
Looking around his room, his feelings started to bleed through. He could feel them welling up inside, like he was going to burst. The moon shined into the dim room, casting like over the bleeding ink on the paper. The ink was so thick that it bled through, and it was even dripping down. It looked smeared, dripping, dark, like blood itself. It seemed like everything around him had turned into an illusion of blood. It was his tears. His tears of blood.
Bloody walls, bloody ink
smear across my already bloody surface
Is it just an illusion? Or something to die for?
It's not that the world is bleeding, it's my tears
My tears of blood
Fin
Did you like it? Okay.