Traveler’s Mirage

You are a mirage.

I walk unsteadily on the scorching sands with my exhausted body. As I walk, I whisper something through my cracked lips; there is a pleasant hum in my ears, dragging me from place to place across this vast desert. I look at the sand dunes, and the more I look, the more I remember the waves, I remember that cool breeze that hit my face with every new wave. Ah, those cool waves... How long has it been since I last saw you, though? A year, a month, years, centuries? I cannot remember. Come to think of it, when did I lose my way in this huge desert? I remember nothing; with each passing day, I get even more lost.

My weary eyes spot something far in the distance; they see someone. With a ray of hope thinking "it might be you," I run barefoot on the burning sands. As I run, something begins to bloom again in my heart. I bring your face before my eyes... though when was the last time we saw each other anyway? Centuries since I forgot your voice, years since I forgot your face. Only memories remain of you. Ah, those beautiful memories... both sweet and bitter memories... I miss our memories; every night I meet "with you" in my memories.

When I arrive, I look around; my eyes search for you everywhere. With a faint hope, I tell myself you might be here, somewhere around here. I try to picture your face in my mind; what did you look like, anyway? It feels as if I would recognize you if I saw you, which is why I search for you so desperately... After looking around enough, I realize that you are not here; I have been fooled by a mirage once again. I sigh... Ah, if only I could see you again... Even if I saw you, could we ever be the same as before after all this time?

I fall for every new mirage I see, and I run far away. Where I arrive, I look for you, hoping maybe you are somewhere around, but you are never here.

Suddenly, a gust of wind strikes my frail and helpless body, blowing me away to a place I do not know. With every passing day, I get more lost in these deserts.

Maybe you are on an island beyond the Pacific, maybe you are a passenger on the train I missed, maybe you washed away in the last rain I saw, maybe you went far away with the migrating birds, or maybe you have always been right where I am, and I just could never see you.

But I am just a lone traveler in the Sahara; I burn in these sands, I burst into flames. I draw circles where I stand. Maybe I will die in this desert, I don't know. I fall for the mirages I see. I run madly toward every mirage I fall for; as I run, I break apart, I drift away. Where is the ocean, how can I reach the ocean, I have no idea.

The more I try to reach you, the deeper I sink into these sands, the deeper I am buried in these mirages.

My fate was sealed with this desert; they threw a fish onto these hot, merciless sands.

Before I die, I wish I could see you, hear your voice one last time, breathe your scent deep into my lungs, hold you tightly in my final seconds... I know these will never happen. I run with a glimmer of hope... living in the hope that one day you will appear from behind that hill. If I didn't think this way, I would turn into dust in a sandstorm and blow away.

I miss you so much, but I am forgetting you. I remember our memories, but there is nothing left of you in any of them. Neither your voice, nor your face, nor ah, that beautiful smile of yours. What did your smile look like, anyway?

Perhaps it resembled the sun shining after a severe storm, a rainbow after a heavy downpour, the evening sun on a summer day, the spring that will never arrive, the colors that blind eyes cannot see, the melodies that deaf ears cannot hear, the laments that the mute cannot sing.

While I am lost in these thoughts, evening has already fallen, of course. The sun has long set, and the cold of the night has dropped upon the surroundings. As for me, I am still walking; maybe you are behind that hill, who knows? My feet, burning from stepping on scorching sands, can no longer carry me; I can barely walk. Do I need to stop now? Before I can answer that, my body answers for me. I collapse right there, flat on my back.

I feel the cold sand grains on my back. They crowd into my clothes. I can barely breathe, trembling uncontrollably from the cold. Yet somehow, I am at peace. In fact, I don't remember feeling this peaceful in a long time. The moonlight strikes my face. I look at the sky, at the bright moon. Fairy tales of the Moon Man come to my mind.

I have no energy left; my eyes slowly close. Besides, I don't believe I will actually be able to see her. I know I will die without seeing you one last time. I try to remember your face one last time, try to hear your voice. I try to smell your scent. If only I could see you again, how wonderful that would be, wouldn't it?

As I look up at the sky, I wonder, "What is there after death?" I am drowned in thoughts. Every breath I inhale passes through, burning my lungs. I feel the blood flowing in my veins. My body no longer obeys me; even my body leaves me stranded right there. I am left all alone in the vast desert. I try to remember you again. What did you look like? I wish I could remember.

If only you would appear from behind that hill. If only you came and pulled me out of the place I am sinking into. Or what if we sank into these sands together?

Tell me, do you even remember me? It has been centuries since we last met. Do you think of us every night, our memories, our laughter, the promises we made but couldn't keep? Maybe you have completely forgotten me, not a single piece of me remains in you. Maybe you have long returned to the dust, thinking I abandoned you. Or maybe you have a happy family and have no need for me. Do you remember, you once gave me a necklace? You told me it was a keepsake from you and that I shouldn't lose it. Even if you forgot, I remember. I didn't lose it. If I had lost the last thing left of you, I suppose I would have buried myself in the sands right then and there. Your memory rests in my left pocket. I would have liked to take it out and look at it one last time, but my body abandoned me long ago. Though soon, my consciousness will abandon me too.

At least I am dying in peace, but my conscience is not at ease. If you think I abandoned you, know that I never abandoned you. If you think I forgot you, I never forgot, at least not entirely. If you think I hate you, then you are a great fool. Ah, if only I could see you again... It is no longer time to think about these things. Death has already knocked on my door; Azrael is probably waiting at my bedside. Was death always this sweet? This sweetness is worth every sweet treat I have ever eaten. How contradictory death and sweetness are, aren't they? I like contradictory things, just like you and me. I tell myself to remember you again, but I lack the strength even for that. The sweetness of death flows through my veins.

I was too lazy to finish the rest sorry!