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Rated: E · Poetry · Fantasy · #1128761
A letter to myself...
Dreaming of aeons,and resting with fayth.
I'm running away from the thoughts of the wraith.
I'm hiding from soldier,with green mako eyes.
Don't agree with that man,the turks only tell lies.
Summon or Esper or G.F. or Aeon.
If the espers are dead then why arent they gone?

Political curruption,Kefka will never get pardon!
Flying over midgar,all the way to Balamb garden.
Mario met cluex with a big Whamma-jamma.
But did anyone figure out what is the secret of mana?
Dancing with moogles,and racing through time.
But did crono save the world in 1999?
Sora and Ramza,the outcasts of the heroes.
But even Sion Barzahd can take care of his foes.

The crystal caravanners are long out of sight.
Maybe they'll help Sora open the door to the light.
The seeds of the past,carrying a sword and a bow.
"This mountains to high,wish we had a better chocobo."

The advent children of my heart,
and the avalanche of my eye.
But this Fantasy is Final,
it must be left behind.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1128761-Growing-out-of-obsession