Old poem, just editing and reposting. Still needs to be improved. Will do so eventually. Probably one of my favorites of my own. Partially inspired by Dark Soul, the videogame, where there is a blacksmith who ends every sentence with Flame, dear Flame. And also inspired by my first flame and how it was snuffed out by life's rains.
Draw: Person Creature in a field of flowers, with wind blowing and petals flying. The shape of his lost love, Persona Creature, is made in the air before him, reaching out with a fading hand. He reaches for it.
Or Person Creature hiking up a mountain in a. Blizzard, with the faint shape of Persona nearby, beckoning.
Or he is huddled up and sleeping in a cave on a mountain, beside a smoldering campfire, with the shape of Persona made from the wisps.