*Idea came to me while reading Narcissa's "Love or Death", this is really just her idea stated in a different fashion*
He retreated to the stars,
Seated sullenly beneath them
And he cried,
For he could not find a star
That he had not
Already wished upon...
All had failed him,
He was truly alone.
He wished upon the moon that night.
Symbolic of nothing other than
His last resort.
And,
The wind whispered...
Come.
The breeze beckoned him west,
And he followed.
The winds subsided
When he reached a bridge.
There was a dark figure
Waiting at the edge...
Tall stood the reaper,
Steady he held his scythe.
Compelling was his voice,
Come.
He approached.
What you seek may be found there.
He said,
A skeletal finger emerging
From his cloak to point
To the water, far below.
Jump.
"Death,
I called for love, not you"
Love is an illusion,
A delusion, a confusion.
I killed her
Long ago.
And the world was my spear.
"Death,
I did not call for you"
You search for an eternal bond.
Such a thing may only exist
Between you and I
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