This poem is about Delita and his guilt.  I always thought that 

was kinda interesting, so I wrote about it.  If I messed up the quote, 

sorry. : >



Grief
By: Naomi
RetroBeans@aol.com





When you think of me you think of prosperity

wealth, power, and all the trappings of the finest lord.

When you look at me you see not what is there;

but a symbol of some higher ideal.

You are sadly mistaken



You don't want to listen to what I really am,

a small man, slayer of the innocent,

represenative of the corruption

which has haunted mankind since its birth



I held hands with the devil himself

promised him my soul,

it seems for nothing

I sit at the very apex of power, yes...

but it is all a lie.



My best friend died nobly, died for a cause.

He fought against all the evil,

and all the hatred, and ultimately

made a martyr of himself

History forgot his name,

dismissing him as a lone heretic.

But I still remember...



"Do you remember how father taught us to play the reed flute?"



Yes, I do...

Please, Ramza, I beg your forgiveness.

Forgive me...