That Auspicious One

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I remember that auspicious one–that figure standing tall in the dark. They are valiant, like some kind of perfect, daring character.

His eyes a deep and bright emerald color, the kind that are soft, but remain determined and assertive. And his hair rests at his shoulders, falling around that auspicious smile.

Anyways, he's here now, staring back at me.
The shadows litter his face in such an awfully endearing way, and I find myself walking closer and closer to him.

Eventually I'm directly across from him, my arms tightly wrapped around my torso to keep myself from reaching out to you. Why is this so desperate? You're still in the dark, I still can't see you.

So why when before you were so far gone? You were just that auspicious one hiding away in my distant memory.

Clouded by the heaviest fog of self-absorption and doubt.

I couldn't see you for so long.

And now you're here–in the dark–but still here.

So I guess you never really left.

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