Reflections

once upon a time, in a distant and exotic land, a boy was put into this world. at first he was asleep and not much seemed to matter. he had some friends but liked it better when he played alone. one Sunday morning he woke up, the church bell rang at noon. the world around him turned to black and white and suddenly devoid of any color. the quantifier of reality was incremented. childish toys were soon forgotten. he built a wall and put a banner up "all, walk on by, i have a magnifying glass". but habits are not easy to walk out, what childhood is, that adults influences. they are insistent, in the shadows linger, attacking unsuspectingly when most they seem forgotten by their victims. then a collision of so many different worlds. the boy, engulfed in panic and confusion, a cry for help has managed to inscribe, and with the ink of desperation he's written on his soul then placed it in a glowing purple bottle. the ocean carries it away. the sea waves can erode even the mightiest of rocks and with his passing dreams, the hope for just one answer slowly fades away. so many butterflies around him. the few mermaids that purple caught their eye ironically were only curious about the bottle. more winters then a spring is manifested. a single star has brightened up the darkness of  his night. how pretty and divine and warm. then a few more, they form a constellation. what zodiac is this? a new realization, under the starlight sky and hope, as many springs would bring you. there's just one torture in his life remaining. there is no moon, it's praised in all the songs and has so much devotion. few waning crescents, that is all he's seen. that can't be it, they say it should be full, majestic and serene, he's wondering, he's curious, and on some nights again lamenting. while chasing fireflies one eve, some strange phenomenon has happened. he felt a gentle warmth, seemingly from all directions. he blinked then looks around, there's nothing to behold. it's gone as gone as if it never was existing. was it a fairy that just stealthily passed by? he spreads the charts, investigates, there's nothing on the map. must have been tricks, illusions, a dismissible appearance? but hope's like oil on the water of his mind, it's almost magical how it affects the desperate. does he deserve to even know such things? still sad, still painful, still alone. what vicious witch has mercilessly cursed him? what sins must be atoned for happiness to deal? when grace decides to finally come out, it's dancing on the water. the smell of roses present on the gentle wind. the moon is brighter than the sun and in the center of the night suspended. he's blinded for some time, he's not a cat. his eyes need to adjust for with such things he's mostly unfamiliar. one, cut in half by mighty sword of sorrow, two becomes, then separated until destiny takes pity. our boy, he's not a boy, a man, tormented, trying to comply. but ocean water is no water for the thirsty. so thirsty, for so long, for what is life but dreams of his own dreaming. the only thing he needs he does not have. all other things he doesn't are abundant. the moon. for just a touch of the reflection on the water, he'd walk the deserts all alone. the sword of sorrow, why exist? are all the folk bound by your long and sharpened edge. must be just him, no other one deserves it. but if it's possible for suffering to be fulfilled, no better time or card or premonition. a gentle breeze, the fortune's wheel is turning. look up and understand the face of universe, then understand you cannot understand and count your blessings. and then surrender.

your smile is water for my fatal thirst
your heart illuminates the darkest of the night, my moon
your soul, the remedy to all my sins and panacea for  my curse