Keep the Faith
Hello, Anthem
I could tell from the very moment that I was assigned to him that he was extraordinary. He emanated something that I had only ever dreamed of, and that in itself was unbelievable. Was he, in fact, a mere delusion? I doubted that as I gazed down from my position above, only to find him in his usual spot in front of his laptop, fingers dancing across the keys as though they had minds of their own and eyes narrowed in concentration at the digital text and images before him.
I called him Anthem, despite the knowledge of his first name. It just fit better than any adjective, pronoun, or other literary devices that could be compared to him would have. Greeting him as “Anthem” fit and helped my deadened heart beat a tad quicker.
Hello, Anthem.
You are the song inside my head.
But Anthem seemed off. He wasn’t smiling or creating like he would always be doing. He wasn’t singing those lyrics of his in rhythm with the drums. He seemed broken, biting his bottom lip in what looked like desperation; in what seemed like need for a living soul to appear out of thin air and comfort him.
It was times similar to these where I wished that I wasn’t so intangible and dead.
“Hey Anthem,” I whispered, even though I absolutely knew that he was not aware of my presence. “Hey… Why are you crying?”
Anthem shook his head in an almost childlike fashion. It was nearly as if he had heard me, but that, of course, was absurd. He coughed slightly, choking out a tiny sob before closing the computer and sending the room he was sitting in into pitch darkness. Though, I could still see him setting the machine to the side and curling his legs up like a kid recently scorned by his mother.
You are blood.
You taint and you splatter and you stain.
(So dirty.)
Yet you give and you flow and you are life.
(So pure.)
“You’re not alone, Anthem.” I was painfully aware of how naïve I sounded, but I gave it naught a second thought for this man needed some sort of kindness. I could not fathom what he had read on that fluorescent screen but judging from his only-too-familiar reaction, it wasn’t something utterly fantastic. “I’m here, I’m here.”
“D-Done… That’s it… F-Finished w-with this…” he mumbled.
A flash of silver was all that I saw before the door to his hotel suite burst open with a thunderous voice accompanying it.
Time itself appeared to halt.
Four wide eyes. One hand grasping a knife; the other holding a door handle. Two hearts beating in a melody all their own. Shock; terror; disbelief.
“Looks like you don’t need me here after all, Anthem,” I breathed, smiling gently. “You have an angel down there too.”
“G-Gerard…?”
“Mikey… It’s not…” His voice faltered in wake of his tears.
“You could have told me, Gerard. You know we could have gotten you help if you needed it.”
“I-I’m… sorry…”
“Anthem, no need to apologize,” I shook my head slowly as the vision began to ebb away. “It wasn’t your time anyway.”
The men embraced heartwarmingly, one crying into the other’s shoulder, as the image rippled a bit as if water. The blade had fallen to the floor, not a drop of crimson plasma visible on the metal. All was well for that moment; my mission had been completed.
“’Til another day, Anthem.”
Oh, and Anthem
Did you know
That you are the song I sing inside my head?
I called him Anthem, despite the knowledge of his first name. It just fit better than any adjective, pronoun, or other literary devices that could be compared to him would have. Greeting him as “Anthem” fit and helped my deadened heart beat a tad quicker.
Hello, Anthem.
You are the song inside my head.
But Anthem seemed off. He wasn’t smiling or creating like he would always be doing. He wasn’t singing those lyrics of his in rhythm with the drums. He seemed broken, biting his bottom lip in what looked like desperation; in what seemed like need for a living soul to appear out of thin air and comfort him.
It was times similar to these where I wished that I wasn’t so intangible and dead.
“Hey Anthem,” I whispered, even though I absolutely knew that he was not aware of my presence. “Hey… Why are you crying?”
Anthem shook his head in an almost childlike fashion. It was nearly as if he had heard me, but that, of course, was absurd. He coughed slightly, choking out a tiny sob before closing the computer and sending the room he was sitting in into pitch darkness. Though, I could still see him setting the machine to the side and curling his legs up like a kid recently scorned by his mother.
You are blood.
You taint and you splatter and you stain.
(So dirty.)
Yet you give and you flow and you are life.
(So pure.)
“You’re not alone, Anthem.” I was painfully aware of how naïve I sounded, but I gave it naught a second thought for this man needed some sort of kindness. I could not fathom what he had read on that fluorescent screen but judging from his only-too-familiar reaction, it wasn’t something utterly fantastic. “I’m here, I’m here.”
“D-Done… That’s it… F-Finished w-with this…” he mumbled.
A flash of silver was all that I saw before the door to his hotel suite burst open with a thunderous voice accompanying it.
Time itself appeared to halt.
Four wide eyes. One hand grasping a knife; the other holding a door handle. Two hearts beating in a melody all their own. Shock; terror; disbelief.
“Looks like you don’t need me here after all, Anthem,” I breathed, smiling gently. “You have an angel down there too.”
“G-Gerard…?”
“Mikey… It’s not…” His voice faltered in wake of his tears.
“You could have told me, Gerard. You know we could have gotten you help if you needed it.”
“I-I’m… sorry…”
“Anthem, no need to apologize,” I shook my head slowly as the vision began to ebb away. “It wasn’t your time anyway.”
The men embraced heartwarmingly, one crying into the other’s shoulder, as the image rippled a bit as if water. The blade had fallen to the floor, not a drop of crimson plasma visible on the metal. All was well for that moment; my mission had been completed.
“’Til another day, Anthem.”
Oh, and Anthem
Did you know
That you are the song I sing inside my head?
♠ ♠ ♠
The poem belongs to Isa (The Way).