So. Here's another one that was requested. Coming from the best damn Monster Hunter of all time: Wood Dog. He wanted a poem about the life Tidus lived. Forced into the fame he had. It's a sad story, really. No wonder he loved his adventure and he was so care free. Because he was just that: finally free.


The Spirit of the Slave

I had always thought
Fame was everything.
Or, at least,
That's what my dear old dad
Had me believe.

"Faster!" he would shout
As I scraped my skin
Upon the ground of failure.
I would look up to the sky
And (seethe) dream of a day
Where I could be myself.

You know nothing of what
It is like
To be forced to be
The (monster) man that your
Father is.
The ball strikes my foot
And flies through (my hope)
The goal.
Score.
Another day.
Another (life wasted) game.

The wind grazes trough my hair
And I relish the outside world
That it carries to my
(prison)
Senses. I breathe in deep.
And I envy those that aren't me.
Why was this life thrust upon me?
Why can't I (just leave?) be me?
Is it too much to ask for, father?
(yes. . .)

I used to think that fame was everything.
No.
I would rather be (away from him)
Homeless and poor, than be
Ostracized from a normal life
And thrown into the
(cesspool of—
Spotlight of hollow
dreams)
Aspiration undefined.
And unknown.

(faster)

Maybe it is all a dream?
Maybe one day I'll wake up?
I would rather (die)
Live a normal life,
Than walk this shallow road
Of crushing hope.
No choice.
No freedom.
No life or love.

Nothing. . .

(that's my boy. . .)


You know you all want to leave me some criticism and reviews.
That box is right down there ▼▼▼

Just remembered. . .

May the Love of Anuwëy guide you when all Hope is lost

TorNathan