"Solitary"--Jadeite Lone wolf. I stand alone in a world inhabited by loners. But I have more than most humans have-- a purpose. It's pretty simple, really. Free the dark goddess who sleeps and who, in her slumber and desire to waken, overshadows all our lives. She has my soul; her avatar, my obedience. Their greed drives me more than my own ever can. Their lust for power inflames my mind, drives me senseless with its force, until my heart and spirit are lost in them. One might call it religious ecstasy, if one were in a dark and humorless mood. This joining, which is all that is left to me, is not something that I desire. But they are above me, and who would dare to question? Countless lives below me. Youma, who live and die at my whim or word. At my hand, if I'm in the mood. They serve as I serve . . . But they are so far beneath me I feel little need to acknowledge their existence. Trash. Ugly, squalling demons that make me sick with revulsion, most of them. Even their deaths are of little entertainment, sometimes, because they have been so twisted, as I have, as we all have, that a part of them savors the pain . . . And the release, which a part of them wants more than anything else. We are alike in that, I know, on the occasions when less . . . desirable memories surface. So what am I left with? I have my equals. We all have our strengths and weaknesses, which balance us perfectly. As we are, none of us can kill another, however much we wish it at times. My equals . . . once, my friends. But time turns you to deepest love-- I see Kunzite and Zoisite, who have chosen to lock themselves together in a symbiosis no totally sane, death-fearing mortal would ever choose. Their love is true, but desperate; they have only each other, and they hold on with a fierceness that belies their lowly human origins. This love, barely tolerated and not understood in this place of bitterness and betrayal, is their torch, their one light that holds at bay the darkness we have been forced to embrace. It is more than anyone else has, and they wield that truth as a weapon. Or, time causes you to hate with a "holy hatred". Zoisite shares a bond with Nephrite that is nearly as powerful. I can _feel_ its force, its mindless, animal loathing, when they look at each other. They'd rip each other's throats out, if they could, without weapons or magic. They'd glory in the blood, the fulfillment. One day one of them will die. He will push too far, too hard, and be destroyed. The survivor will only fall deeper into madness. They too feed on each other, enjoying every clash of wills, of wits, of power. They need it. This passion they share is also beyond humanity. It is not magic which has severed us from those who live and die on Earth. It is the dark needs and fulfillments of those who know they cannot die. I know these things because I stand apart. Time has brought me to . . . indifference. They stay sane, as well as they can, through their bonds to each other. I stay sane by watching them. I no longer condemn. Frankly, I no longer care about them or the outcomes of their personal wars and loves. And they don't much care about me. I do not share their wild carelessness of emotion, their schemes and plots. If it wouldn't leave me bored, I'd destroy them all in a heartbeat. And yet . . . there are moments. Even now, after a thousand years, there are still surprises to be found in each other. And there are moments of shared, forbidden memory when eyes meet across a gulf of time. Memory we can't quite touch, can't express. And I remember then a bond of brotherhood that has rotted by necessity. A time when those who hate only argued, and made up too. When they stood solid and trusted at each other's backs, differences put aside. A time when those who love were not so lost in each other that they were consumed. A time when I stood beside them, instead of away. And in that instant, before magic older and stronger than we are sweeps the memory away, we look at each other, the loved as well as the hated, and we remember, and mourn for what has been destroyed between us. ******************************************************************************** "Mystery"--Osaka Naru Mystery. Doesn't every girl fall for an older man? Don't we all, at least once, see the boys around us as children? I did, once. My first love . . . but if only he'd acted like most older men would have, and ignored me. It would have faded. Mystery. I would never have known him, the gentle-seeming, yet powerful . . . rich and handsome--no, beautiful . . . every fourteen year old girl's dream. My dream. My mystery. My secret. Why did you come to me, Nephrite?! I know your name, now. Your dream. Your mystery. Your evil. Your self. All dark shadows, black diamonds . . . And I loved you anyway. Did I damn myself by protecting you, you who would have destroyed my world? Or did I redeem you, as you saved me before you died? Can someone of total evil speak of love? Or chocolate parfait? What a child I was. "Do you have holidays in that Dark Kingdom of yours?" You laughed. Can't say that I blame you. That was the night that my heart saw the truth, although my head already knew. Angel of darkness, outside my window . . . shadow lover waiting to be invited in, vampire who fed on the energy of my world instead of blood . . . You weren't human. And yet . . . were you once? I remember your eyes most of all. You touched my face, gentle, but forcing me to obey. You made me look into your eyes. Blue, I remember, but that wasn't what I noticed. The power that sucked me in, searched my soul, pushed what was light in me away, as irrelevant, and pulled my darkness to the surface, for only a moment. It frightened me. I frightened me. And your voice, filling my mind, bypassing my ears . . . soft and compelling. Rich and so beautiful. I would have done anything for you. I tried, that night. I tried so hard to save you . . . One of your own, above us, mocking us. Did he order your death because of me? Or was I only an excuse? My heart shrieked "Evil!" at him, as it never did at you. His laughter echoed around us, sinister, madness . . . But there was a change in his eyes, when you said he knew nothing of love. Denial, instant and complete, though he didn't answer you. If he loved, and you loved . . . I still don't understand. And that night, my dark love, all I understood was your blood all over me. Hot and sticky, and green . . . mortal but inhuman. I understood that you left me. You left me nothing, not even a body. I never saw you dead, Nephrite. The light you became, and my tears, blinded me. And when I could see, and stop screaming, you were gone. And you left me wondering. Good and evil, Nephrite of the darkness. You who vanished in a vortex of lights. I will never understand. But I will never stop trying. Mystery. I will never, never forget. ******************************************************************************** "Letting Go"--Tsukino Ikuko "Mother," you say to me as you pause in the doorway, "Mother, don't worry. I'll save everyone." Did you mean to tell me? I watch you run out into the dark and the rain, and I want to call you back as a good mother should. I want you to be safe in your bed, your eyes closed in sleep, not like this, glinting with angry tears and determination. What happened to you? How did I fail to notice the changes in you? You hid them well, buried the determination and strength and love under tears and sulks held over from your childhood. Usagi. My little girl. I want to hold you back, hang onto you, not let you run away to face death . . . again. Will you come home again? If you die tonight, will they even be able to identify you as my daughter? When you wear that tiara and that costume, how will they know where to take you? Do you know that I know who you've become? Do you know how proud I am of you? How can I tell you if you never come home? ------- Legalities: The characters in these poems were created by Naoko Takeuchi, and are used without permission. This story can be copied and distributed freely as long as there is no profit being made by anyone even remotely involved (this includes putting it on webpages with banner ads), and as long as the copies are identical to an original, with unaltered text and the author's name and email address untouched. Thank you.