Witch Hunter Robin Fan Fiction ❯ "It was," ❯ Wings ( Chapter 1 )
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By: Fuyumiko 
Short poem on Robin's point of view at the STNJ. Talk about conflicting emotions.
Anime/Manga: Witch Hunter Robin Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Psychological | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 05.28.2004 | Pages: 1 | Words: 249 | Visits: 1.1K | Status: Completed
Short poem on Robin's point of view at the STNJ. Talk about conflicting emotions.
Anime/Manga: Witch Hunter Robin Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Psychological | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 05.28.2004 | Pages: 1 | Words: 249 | Visits: 1.1K | Status: Completed
"It was,"
By: Arashi, Fuyumiko
Written: May 28, 2004
A flickering flame,
A forgotten past,
Thoughts of long ago lay dormant in the demon’s belly,
And the tendrils of smoke lift into the air.
Whilst the jade of insecurity reflects a longing,
Pure white,
Feathers upon a shallow surface,
Rippling the entrapment of forever.
Was it sought?
The place of immortality,
My tourniquet,
My remorse.
My endearment.
The gentle notes of nothing are being played,
targeting,
vibrating,
lost.
Only to your deaf ears,
falling vibrations of nothing,
I fear sight has left you too,
No reflection in dark brown.
A tired bird with no place,
broken wings,
seeking what is not to be found,
dreams are whispering,
Skittering moments of melancholy,
of hope,
of faith,
of truth’s final destiny…
The path is unclear but,
the sky is a sweet milk of self rapture,
my rapture.
A soft wind shifts through the leaves to fall.
Fallen snow,
Tranquility of bliss,
the rushing of gravity,
bitter sweet fate…
A single petal of the out come feels of velvet.
My heart beats,
and lost in my own flames of comfort,
I shall sing.
Fly.
By: Arashi, Fuyumiko
Written: May 28, 2004
A flickering flame,
A forgotten past,
Thoughts of long ago lay dormant in the demon’s belly,
And the tendrils of smoke lift into the air.
Whilst the jade of insecurity reflects a longing,
Pure white,
Feathers upon a shallow surface,
Rippling the entrapment of forever.
Was it sought?
The place of immortality,
My tourniquet,
My remorse.
My endearment.
The gentle notes of nothing are being played,
targeting,
vibrating,
lost.
Only to your deaf ears,
falling vibrations of nothing,
I fear sight has left you too,
No reflection in dark brown.
A tired bird with no place,
broken wings,
seeking what is not to be found,
dreams are whispering,
Skittering moments of melancholy,
of hope,
of faith,
of truth’s final destiny…
The path is unclear but,
the sky is a sweet milk of self rapture,
my rapture.
A soft wind shifts through the leaves to fall.
Fallen snow,
Tranquility of bliss,
the rushing of gravity,
bitter sweet fate…
A single petal of the out come feels of velvet.
My heart beats,
and lost in my own flames of comfort,
I shall sing.
Fly.