Songfic

Lyrics - Kyo (translated from japanese)

Music - Dir en grey

There is no noise, no breath. Nothing except the ticking of the old clock. It is the only sign of life. It gives rhythm to the slow passage of a time which has lost any measure. Every second is one o'clock, every hour one year.

He had asked for nothing, waited for nothing. Why do these things happen? We say that it is fate, fate, that it is written, that it is God's will…Truths or bits of nonsense? It doesn't really matter. It already happened. Consequence of an error, a bad choice, a stupid fury from an imbecile a head filled with certainties...

And it had arrived. Without reason. Why ask so many questions? There are no answers. Never, in the history of time, was anybody able to find the slightest answer to this elementary question...

Only, always, pushed asid from the others, without a friend. Because of being different. According to their criteria. As if they were the only ones to have the right to judge, the right to decide who enters their normality and who goes out of it. They have a list of criterion of long selection for their blindness. And they are always right. Of course, they are right, because they decided for him. They know what is just. And it is just to break the heart of a child. Because they say that he is different.

He still didn't know. He ignored, when he lamented his suffering and his solitude, when, somewhere, far, or maybe so close, a heart was beating in accord of his, a soul created to complete his bruised soul. And this voice which already called him, he still did not hear him.

He is no longer the child who cried in the dark. He is no longer the weak being subjected to the judgment of the adults. But he always feels, with the same intensity, this huge need of tenderness. His heart always seems so empty to him, trying to reach the soul which will know how to give him heat and life. He is no longer a child. But nothing really changed.

The other soul came. But he's still suffering. Yes, he is jealous. Jealous of all those who knew him, his soulmate, before he becomes aware of his existence. Jealous of all those people who are going alongside him, who share the same space, who inhale the same air, who walk under the same sun. He belongs to him, and to him only.

Such an impotence. Having to stay there, immovable. Saying nothing. Armour his heart, not to cry any more in the dark. Know that he found what he always looked for, and have to keep silent. At the risk of losing everything. At the risk of being once again different.

But it is only a dream, is not it ? Dream of a madman, dream of the kid who did no longer wants to be alone. Could it resist, this dream, to the cruelty of the reality?

This night, he believed that he could finally lower his shield, put to bare his still bloody soul. He believed that he would finally be understood. He believed it, of all his innocence, all his love. And he made a mistake.

He had believed to be finally understood. He was nevertheless so sure. An error, a bad choice. The worst of all the choices. He had misinterpreted everything. The smiles, the glances. Everything. Nothing...

He shouted love, we answered him friendship. He shouted love, we answered him different. He shouted love, we answered him solitude. He had understood nothing.

He knows now that they were always right. He was really different. He had no right to believe in his dream. It is just check to be lamented without tears in the dark, to shout without voice in the silence, to exist without living in the same space as a soul that he had believed his soulmate.

It is so cold. It is as a hurricane of ice in the space of his heart. Everything is swept, there is no more than an unlimitedness of a bottomless abyss. It is worse than before. Because henceforth he knows what he would have been able to have, and lost for ever.

He existed only for a single love, unique, sublime, eternal. He has nothing more. It is nothing more. His heart is not more than ash, his soul a withered rose, the blind eyes in the light. The word of love has no more meaning.

He knows that it is useless, he knows that he cannot ever warm himself in the sweet heat of his soulmate. He is so far. Still there, near him, but so far. A wall of ice rises henceforth, uncrossable. But he is persisted always so stupidly, as he cannot give up the only thing which stays in him; the hope. And this hope has a name.

Blair...