• Left in Oblivion


    i. “What would be a night without you?” he asked himself, brood and solitude on his own realm.


    The morning air whispered and another sunrise for mortals stole his lover out from his embrace once again, barricaded him from the world apart from her.

    He thought of her voice so sweet and merrily that soon broke into fine laugh, her mirth he had adores more than he adored the full blue moon. He loved tracing along her hands, so smooth and delicate to touch, but what he do loved most as she laid perfectly asleep right on his arm watching her until the sunlight peeks inside her window, the sign that the dream is ends. Over. The music on his ears was her every breathing, so warm and at peace. He loves her, he does.

    Every time he needed to go, he desperately wished to put an end to the cursed fate tied on his life. He hated to leave her side and most of all breaking his promises all over again. He couldn’t help to call himself a futile, a pathetic being.

    Sometimes at night he seen her crying, he hated to see her like that, but he was too afraid to asked her what was the problem, what was upset and worn her, either. Only he could do was soothes and comforts her by saying, “Everything will be alright.” He thought sometimes if any of it does make sense at all. He hasn’t had any idea why she shed tears for, but only he knew to himself that it was the right things to say. Right after then, she stopped from crying and it was a relief to his burden heart.

    In his life, he hadn’t been a lover to one of his own and even from the gentry, the struggle for love surrounded by uncertainty and assurance between reality and left to complete darkness of oblivion. But he does love her more than his life.

    She kept on telling her about her world laid misty among the fae, the day of mortals. How she loved to watch those white clouds glides beneath the cerulean sky and painted it her canvas, but she do admit to herself it’s always still a dream, she can’t even sketch the portrait of a human.

    One time, she asked jokingly, “When I’m good enough would you be the one stood beneath the cerulean sky?”

    He smiled on the request, but soon enough nodded on her lover’s dream.


    ii. One night the moon he adored was full lingering out by the window, and the most he loved kept right next on his arms.


    “You’re not just a part of my dream, aren’t you?” she whispered him that night, rigid on his voice.


    “Yes, he said back.”


    “You’re not just a part of my imagination, tell me?” she asked him again, tracing none of the voices he had known.


    “I’m not,” he answered, startled from her every word.

    Trust me…


    She slept right after that, none of her sweet voices were present and none of her soft kisses before she went to sleep. This night, he cuddled with feared and troubled next to her. He hadn’t felt so scared from her stiff voice and hoping she didn’t mean any of those, but part of him, he knew she was not. He couldn’t imagine how would be a life without her, without her laugh, without her presence next to him and too scared to be left empty behind the oblivion.

    That collapsing dawn, he left with the promise he had always hushed onto her ears and tucked the sheets tight closer to her neck.


    That following night—another visit to his mortal lover, he called her name but no words resonates back. He thought she was too busy sketching one of her dreams or either way busy at listening about the music—modern songs she had once sang for him. The wonders on his face drew a smile when the so familiar shadow slept perfectly peace and calm on her bed. He called her name again, no one answered. He slid besides her and tracing her with his fingers, gently kisses her forehead, the tip of her nose and finally her lips, but she rested there so motionless and dead towards him.

    For the last time he called her name fidgety, silence was the only answers, sunk on his own ground and distance. The most he feared was now rolling at the edge of his life and tasting the word, “alone.”

    The fae once warned him, but he never dared to listens even one. He knew it was only but their sheer paradox. Mortals were perplex being, confusing, beguiling and easy to change mind. Yes and no were the mortal alibis, if and maybe their promises and tomorrow and be it the other day their dreadful lies. The truth is, mortal was his lover cursed with tongue full of lies.

    Alone. He hadn’t felt any hatred or betrayal, only anguish and awe his lover left for him from this oblivion, no more.


    iii. Three years from mortal’s day, he still hoped for a way out from this oblivion but always ends up in vain, awe and agony that scorches his torn heart and until dumb him in complete numbness.

    For his eyes it turned out to be just yesterday, night so clear and warm, right on his arm the one he loved and the silence and her cries the music of his now lethe life. Look at him, tall and aloof on the corner of darkness as the shadow of her figment memories. He’d watched her night after night from the corner of his eyes, her laugh that sends aches on his heart, her dreams to unfold for the future he’d wished someday be a part, her cries concealed under the pillow while he was just right at the edge of her bed, and slowly that melts twice his heart. Still, he’s afraid, too scared when he called her name the same haunting sounds would grasp him down.

    Stay and that is what he do, loved her forever in this oblivion he had too learn to love.




    iv. Scent of December air chilled the room of yesterday’s warmth. The moon was once up there, the only eyes and audience of his presence and soothed his entire loneliness. Lingered from where he stood, the moonlight casts on his lover’s face, so pale and unreachable to his hands. The solitude that locked him to darkness all this time, he had frozen enough to it.

    Past haunted him once again, the memories of yesterday once she asked him to be the one stood beneath the cerulean sky. How she had loved and gazed at it during the day without him, how he had loved to be a part of it someday that full of uncertainty.

    At the corner of her room, so close but too scared enough, only her memories the reason of his existence.


    v. Spring, the fae celebrates and welcomes the blossom of nature once again. Summer as they swam and sprinkled water to each other’s wings and flapped above, glittering with undiminished fair.

    He stood in oblivion hidden to her eyes and his face so pale and morose. He watched. He waited, lingered from night to dawn without complain for a gratitude. The moon he adored before was now only but a portrait that sunk along with the stars above between the darkness and loneliness of her scat past.


    “I’m always be here,” he promised night after night, hoping somehow he heard his emptiness.


    vi. Another slumber of his lover without him to hold her tight, he stood frigid on his spot, watched and waited. He once pleaded from the stars, skies, moon and unknown God of his race that she had once told her about his glory to heal him from this darkness and pain.

    No one but the cold drift stillness of oblivion resonates his ears, the same fear that gripped him from calling her name.


    vii. Dreaded on his own ground, he heard her cries, so much pain to bear more to his torn heart. He watched and listened that’s all he can do, nothing more.


    “As long as the moon above us I’ll walk you with my hands, I promised.”


    “Watch the star as they fade in the distance and welcomes the sun raises from horizon is my dream with you.”


    “Dance with you along the fae, is a pleasure.”


    He wished right then he had the courage to yield those words as he had too once kisses her forehead to comfort her from loneliness. Only, he was locked from this cold cell as his own comforts, darkness as his companion, moon and stars his loyal audience and the silence his oblivion.


    “I will never leave your side,” he promised.


    viii. Darkness, cold embrace and echoes of stillness, the doom that chained and pinned him down in vain from state of turmoil. The curse he had once hated before was but merely the reason why he stayed for her and forever if meant.

    He hated to saw her like this, awake almost every night with tears on her eyes that he couldn’t even wipes away. But he was too scared, too scared to even ask and calls her name. The name frozen behind the shadow of his so called life, forgot how to bear it to say, either. Only wait and waits, watched until endless dawn to come.


    “When would this oblivion sunk him entirely? Would there be hope for remembering?”


    That cold night, so faint and inaudible to be taken as mere reality, he heard the hope, the key from this box of oblivion.



    ix. From years of embed pains and longing on his heart, the only actions of watch and wait concealed by the darkness that slowly mended the valiant inside him. The night she left him no nights he had hoped for, no nights he had tired of waiting, no nights he thought of leaving her side and come back from the fae he had used to be and no nights he had the courage to touch her face again. Her soft skin he had once memorized and hold, so warm, a dream he had never though to once hold back.

    He sat next to her, not a shadow, not her figments. The oblivion can no longer grasp him back. He would never let it dominates him, now that the hope is right on his own will. The name resounded on his ears, his own name calling by his lover, so clear nearly as real as it was here.

    He heard her cries, “I’m very sorry… I shouldn’t let this all happen. This is… I know this all my fault and how selfish I am that I know then I can’t live my life without you. I was so selfish.”

    From his life, the reason of her tears is remain untold. He respects the things she hid behind. Though, the tears she shed were for him this time, for all the feelings she had kept on suffered, her regrets and dreaded, only to her. If only he knew the reason of her doubt that night she asked him those questions he would explain all she needed to prove. If only he knew the reason behind her coldness he would calls her name all over again until she could finally hears him. Though, only he bear to confess to himself, how he had always been a futile.


    “It’s alright,” he whispered, the only words he dared to say, “I’m here.”


    “Eramis,” the name traced her lips as tears wells her pale face.


    His own name echoes along the blood rushing on his veins, the same beats of life and reality. He stopped. Startled when she launched herself to his arms, so tight he couldn’t resist flinching, his heart that beats faster than before as she cried harder on his chest. He hadn’t felt this kind of agony bursting inside, the pain he never felt behind the oblivion, her lover seek for forgiveness.

    Words and sobs filled the air. He tried to consoled her from pain she burdened inside, he wrapped his hands on her back and pulled her closer.


    “I’m sorry,” the words she kept on stammering.


    He hushed her name and kissed her forehead as he had always done to stop her from crying. “I never leave your side as I always promise,” he whispered, mild and clear as the emotions he could no longer take to conceal, tears slid down to his eyes.


    x. He pulled her closer and protectively to him, her face was perfectly fit into his shoulder, her mouth was open a bit while he arm nestled on her bosom and the other gripped on his cloth and her legs tangled along with his. He hadn’t forgotten after all. She kept him deep on her heart as he too treasured her as his delicate fair one. Their hearts beat the same warmth a midst through shadows of fear and oblivion.


    “I will always be here.”