By Marcus Pan

Sitting idly by,
Staring at the starry sky,
Not yet knowing,
Where I'm going,
Just want to go away and fly.

Tired of being alone,
Walking on sharp-edged stones,
Think I'm crying,
Feel like dying,
By myself in my own zone.

Alone on a hill,
Wind is so very still,
Full of doubt,
Feel left out,
Around my head winds whistle shrill.

What did I do?
Could it already be through?
Before it's begun,
Are we done,
Though what I feel seems so brand new.

We're apart,
But my beating heart,
Wants you so,
Please don't go,
Before these feelings even start.

The above item may have been edited by the author since its first appearance in Legends No. 15.