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The Field of Broken Hearts
I walked slowly through a field I had been in before, oh so many times before
I shook my head, cursing myself for setting foot in the field of broken hearts
I saw bloody crosses with so many names scrawled on little plaques attached to the crossbeam,
"Prince Firebolt, Killed by elves" "Zelotor Templarator, the Prince of the Gods, Killed by the Dark Princesses" "Sganarelle, Killed by them all, the last dagger driven in by Queen of the Vampires" So many more names...so much more blood
Of course they were all dummy crosses, I was still alive
I poured the blood from my broken heart on them, letting these names die.
Sganarelle could never die now...too many knew him...how many hated him?

He looked up from the grave yard, and looked deep into the forest behind him
He saw a Panther in the grass and an Owl in the trees, they were the same animal, nay, the same person.
He looked deep into her eyes, they were changing color, convincing him that she felt him, she knew him, she was the same as him
He wanted to believe her...he wanted to hold onto her...he wanted to know that she wasn't lying to him, holding onto him like he wanted to hold onto her, agreeing with things he said so that he would continue to talk him...
He wanted to believe her, ******** want, he needed to...so much blood of his broken heart had been spilled over so many names...even the name he held most dear...

"Wow..." I thought as I held my hands to my face, coughing before tears filled my eyes, "I switched tenses...just like the old days" I took up a new mantle, Nicodemus, a lost wanderer, "Lost again, eh? Well, being lost with her..." I tied the tattered white bandanna with that mantle around my head, and I walked slowly towards the Panther and the Owl, no matter how far she seemed, I ran forever forward, forever trying to reach her...forever feeling my heart bracing its self for the rip...looking for wood to make another cross...