He was born from a song
that I was listening to.
I saw him there, with his sword,
and his eyes were deep blue.
Fire streamed from his hands
as he fought a faceless foe.
With every rising chorus,
his blue blaze bellowed.
The song took a back seat
as the fight unfolded.
I knew not his name yet
but knew his heart was gold.
I saw him more than once
as he traversed my mind,
popping up in daydreams,
he wasn't fighting all the time.
In some songs, he was wounded.
In others, he was exploring.
Sometimes I saw a woman
with whom he was training.
I knew what she was to him.
Well, not that clearly at the time.
She was his mentor, perhaps lover,
and definitely his ally.
Then I saw another man
who looked exactly like him,
except he had hair as white as snow
and red eyes with an evil glint.
Those two men often clashed
and red eyes would sometimes win.
And other times, at the verge of death,
she would aid blue eyes or rescue him.
It took a while before I chose
to weave a tale out of my dreams.
I started plotting and gave them names
which took longer than they first seemed.
For reasons which I did not know,
people were out for blue eyes.
Even before the first words hit the page
they all wanted him to die.
It was not until the very end
did they start to join his side.
From time to time, I wondered
if I made his character right.
Even more when he was dissected
by more critical eyes.
"Passive, boring, far from morally grey."
Nobody wanted blue eyes alive.
I've always loved blue eyes
as creators loved their creations.
That was, until other people came
and then made known their opinions.
Or at least implied what they thought
through polls and their decisions.
Then a strange hate started blooming
along with a foreign frustration.
For a time, I hated blue eyes
yet I loved him too. Oh, confusion!
Then pain as I saw blue eyes
weeping alone in my head.
Only she comforted him;
all others wanted him dead.
Then I wrote more and more
and as I did, a new light shone.
More people started liking blue eyes.
Now, he's no longer alone.
His character grew as his story did
and so did the number who rooted for him.
Who knew his tale would arise
from a single celestial hymn.