Down

[wsprs]

Heroes are never sad, never lonely. They move through life at super human speed, and never have the time for mortality or insecurities. I have been called a hero, but in truth, I am simple. I am feeling. I am human.

My fingers pause on the keyboard, and I look out the window. I am not distracted, but I find myself picturing your face. Your image has always pulled me from my thoughts, always burned away everything but the soft lull of emotion free from complication. You are peaceful. You are the last emotion living when the storm of rage and confusion passes.

You are a hero.

I look at my screen; the redundant letters blur together and form a pattern of black on white. I let my eyes swim; allow them to be blind to the individual words and symbols. From the dim, I see a streaking light at the corner of my eye, a trick, likely the sun playing on the back of my retinas from the reflective surface of the shuttle window. But I look. I imagine it is the wind blowing in your hair, the fast flick of blond against the soft green breeze.

And against the reflection of glass, I see the ghost of your face. You are looking at me, and my heart aches. Simple. Feeling.

Human.

I watch you until my eyes burn, but I do not close them. Instead, I soak up your imagined features, and picture myself looking up to a window instead looking out of this one. It?s raining, and I am hardly aware of my drenched clothes, the water stinging me like firebrands, or the cold. I am overwhelmed by you. You are glorious. The rain doesn?t pelt you as it does me; it floats around you like a halo, kissing you, caressing you. Yet you don?t notice your drenched clothes, or the water coursing over your cheeks like rivers. You are looking down at me.

And I am stripped of my humanity, and everything is bare before you.

Down low, the river fiercely flows
And tidal waves crash and rip right through me.
The absence of your warmth is suffocating,
It wraps around me sad and cold.
But outside the breaking water makes me crazy
I feel the current overflow.

Yet I say nothing. Were I able, there would be no need. You can see into me, as you have always done. If I were standing next to you, I would do nothing. I would look into your eyes as you look into my eyes, and we would stand in the rain. I would burn your face into memory; the rain falling around you, slowly carving paths from your brow to your jaw, over the line of your collar bone to the valley between your breasts. It would fall from your lashes and dip into the divot above your lips, and you would taste it with your tongue. I would not kiss you. I would watch the rain as it touches you. As I would touch you. But this image is too beautiful to be ruined by contact. The ache of doing nothing is too perfect. I will have this, and every time I play it in my head, I will stand here before you once again, and I will again do nothing. I will stand, and I will let you see me.

And years of standing still fall all around me.
And the wind blows and picks me up now.
It takes me to the beginning, far away from where I end.

My heart, my mind, is wind shorn. As I knew then, I feel exactly now as I did at that moment. As I expected, the intensity only grows over time. One day it will overcome me, and I will do as I could have done that day, and I will not stand before you doing nothing. One day. But not today.

Up on high, the wind fiercely blows
And drops of rain fall all around me.
The absence of your voice is suffocating,
It burns inside my head and glows.
But outside the sound of silence makes me crazy.
And the rain slowly succumbs to snow.

I know you still look to the stars and imagine me; where I am, what I?m doing. I know you think of me looking down on you as you once looked down on me. For the moments when I am looking down when you are looking up, we are connected. And the rain is once again falling all around us, and I am once again standing before you. And when, on the thousandth time we each imagine the other is thinking what could happen on the thousandth time it rains, it will rain again. And I there I will be, standing before you, watching you as you watch me.

And years of flood crash all around me.
And the snowflakes dance and pick me up now,
They take me to another place, far away from where I am.

And I will go
Down, down, down.
Down, down, down.
And the rain takes me
Down, down, down.
Down, down, down.
And the wind takes me.
Down, down, down.
Down, down, down?..

[Morrighan]

Wow. So fluid like the rain falling in the story... I can't even begin to describe the complexity and loveliness of this! Absolutely amazing!

Excellent choice of lyrics/stanzas. They complement the story perfectly and help the movement of the entire piece with precision.

[Raspberry]

Wow. So fluid like the rain falling in the story... I can't even begin to describe the complexity and loveliness of this! Absolutely amazing!

Excellent choice of lyrics/stanzas. They complement the story perfectly and help the movement of the entire piece with precision.

Yeah, I don't anything more to say than Morri has said. Truly great fic!

[wsprs]

I'm blushing. I'm more shy when it comes to poetry than to fiction. This is... well, it's FAN fiction. The characters are borrowed. My poetry is completely mine. Even though I borrowed the GW characters to express the ideas (and inspiration from blink 182) it's all mine.
Thank you!