by Maiji/Mary Huang
A darkening land, each day goes by:
Each year is a candle,
a flame burning light, yet sightless and blind.
Fire rises, fire sets, and the light in his eye
It is no surprise.
So eighteen years pass,
as eighteen years go;
And the world, which was saved,
And only he knows.
His memory still runs
as thick as blood,
Now eighteen years old.
His name, she calls;
It sandpapers the darkness.
Fire dies slowly, time
He is running out of candles. And so he marks each day
with the voice in the darkness:
Now eighteen years ago.
Author's Notes: "Is it over, Caim?" After getting past that part in Drakengard 2, I had to get this out of my system. All that waiting, all that time; I just couldn't get it out of my head. I guess it's supposed to be a happy ending for them, but … I suppose it's the best they could hope for, which makes it even more tragic. My sis calls this "such a moody poem" XD I hope it flows okay.