I watched you drift,
not as a man, but as an idea
no longer bound to the flesh
that once bore the weight of a thousand lives.
I knew you as a reader,
but you became a story
far beyond the ink and pages.
You stood alone in the void,
no name, no face,
only the memory of what was,
of who you were.
And I felt the ache
the grief that settled like dust
on the broken fragments of your life.
You became the dream that none could escape,
the eternal watcher of fates,
and I, your reader,
felt the loss.
For in your transcendence,
you left behind the simple tragedy
of being human.
I feared the emptiness
that stretched between your old world and the stars,
wondered if you felt the cold
of forgetting yourself
to hold the universe together.
But you chose this,
a choice forged in loneliness
and love for a world that never truly saw you.
And in that moment,
as you became the Most Ancient Dream,
I mourned the loss of a hero
who saved stories
by becoming one.
A part of you slipped away,
into the eternal sea of narratives,
and I was left,
aching for the man who once lived,
even as I marveled at the dream
you had become.
—————————————-
Ever get so curious about how a novel ends that you accidentally skip to the end? Yeah, I did that.
And now I'm a sobbing mess. I won't even dare touch the epilogue, I'm not emotionally prepared for that.
But seriously, if you haven't already, go check out Omniscient Reader's Point of View. Or dive into the webtoon. Or both. Either way, you will love it.
