Von

A story that affected a life. An accident that affected lives. A mistake that lost a life. A realization that will change a life.

I looked up at the gray skies and see,

What could've been a bright day,

It has shades of darkness in a decree,

And it's still the 14th of May;

What could've been my life, 

It's what I couldn't mend,

For I am alone, yet alive,

And I've always thought, this'll never end.

I looked up at the bright sun,

That was a day ago, I was not a child,

But my cheeks were pink as I run,

Around the shore with them, tender and mild.

Now it's a day, it's present,

But this isn't a sweet gift anymore,

In fact, it's the very day that I resent,

A day wherein, alone, I stood at the peaceful shore.

"Every journey always comes to an end",

That's what my mother always said,

That was when my life wasn't painted ashen, 

That's when I was a child, as I ate my toast and bread,

I remember the sound of screeching,

When all thoughts flew away,

It was a minute of quick fleeting,

It vanished within a day;

What vanished could've been my life,

Along with my pride: proud and mature,

But given by my parents prayers, I'm alive!

Mixed with this feeling of blankness and torture.

I saw a white dove fly along with a black vulture,

Spreading their wings as if they have something to show,

And with each other, they were left enraptured,

And with each other, they were left with their sorrow.

"Where have you been all my life?

Would I be destined to meet you,

When there hadn't been a knife,

That left a horrifying red hue?" 

the vulture said.

"I'm no one important, I'm no one new,

But why are you here, at this dead hive,

Tell me, Vulture, who are you,

And what made you come here, alive?"

The dove dreaded.

No, the birds didn't talk,

It's just me with Von, a stranger,

We didn't even need to walk,

We just needed peace, and each other.

"Tell me Von, what is your purpose here?

Answer me, and I'll answer you."

I asked with a leer,

That person beside me, I just wanted to know who.

"My purpose is unknown, I don't want to know,

But I wanted to see them where they lay,

In a bed of flowering innocence, lying low,

I can't even do anything anymore, not even pray."

I realized, he's the same as me,

Helpless, blank, emotionless, black,

We wanted to break out: happy and free,

Also, we want to reach out, and take it all back.

We were relatable in so many ways,

He once said that his life is a one in a million tragedy,

In his one in a million life, there weren't any more days,

To fix his shattered past, and broken memory.

Yes, that was us, we were almost bound,

That day, I thought about ending my life,

Yet he lifted me off the ground,

And joined me, freed me from this knife.

The sun started to shine,

The rains began to diminish,

It's time to get back what's mine,

It's time to do what I'd have finished,

There's that unpredictable count,

And that unknown future,

Of my life in fate's bound,

For I'm just a lone vulture,

Yes, I'm a vulture that's alone,

Where did the dove go?

I don't even know,

I'm confused if to him, I should condone;

We never met, we never knew,

We were just strangers everyday,

It's as if there were something new,

About our meeting each day;

Standing and observing,

Of our pairs of graves,

Talking and reminiscing,

Of our happiest days;

Talking about our loss

as if we were one lone person,

Telling ourselves what's lost,

And thought that we were both in tribulation;

We were the same, yet still not,

I am a shining star, filled with depression,

He was a human, left to rot,

He never had a continuation;

For once I understood what he meant,

By his heavy and never ending rainfall, 

By his life that he thought was crestfallen,

It was as if he was blocked, he could never stand tall.

With realization, in despair, I was woven,

With the life I saw before me, limited, I rose,

With the story of someone other than me, I've awoken,

And thought that my life gave meaning, so treasure it the most,

My name is Igor, made by the bright day,

Last's Solberg, where the sun and hill connect, 

His name's Von, meaning... I can't say,

Landvik... I don't even know if that's correct.

I was a sun that shone on those next days,

I was the one that made a connection,

Von was the name that was trapped in the vase,

He once told me that he wasn't worth the mention.

That's me, the survivor of a car crash,

Wherein me and my parents rode,

The accident suddenly came in like a lash,

Giving me more burden in my load.

There's him, the victim of a car crash,

Wherein him, his sisters, and parents rode,

His dreams and life diverged from fate being rash,

And it was because of another car swiveling around the road,

That's me, that's him, 

We were together when we experienced a painful loss,

It filled us to the brim,

That understanding wins, and a grudge won't be needing a cause.

I took a book about me,

And each page I turned,

My life's slowly being free,

And each page I learned,

I took a book about Von,

I saw ripped pages,

There was no ending upon,

A book imprisoned by cages,

Von was a writer, but I'm writing a poem,

In hopes of you knowing my story,

In hopes of you wanting to roam, 

In our story that ruins the mentality,

The mentality of giving up your life,

Because we once...I once thought of giving up,

Don't even try pick up that knife,

Don't even try to attempt a petty cut,

I hope to paint a picture in your head,

A paradise that has people full of you,

Lead you to a place wherein you should be led,

And introduce you the world in a new light, starting anew,

Let me rewind on everything I said,

This isn't your story, it's ours,

Understand it fully, and bring it to your head,

I've spent many minutes for this, many hours,

I looked up at the gray skies and see,

What could've been a bright day,

It has shades of darkness in a decree,

And it's just the 24th of May,

What could've been my life, 

It's what I wanted to mend,

For I am not alone, and I'm alive,

And I've always thought, this'll one day, end.

What could've been his life,

It's what he could never ever mend,

For he was always alone, barely alive,

In his own tragedy that will never ever end.

Author's Note

This is a total amateur poem. I wanted to write out my feelings and message for those suicidal people. This is the result, and I hope it touched you as a reader. I'd love to hear your criticism; either it be harsh or encouragement.

Also, the title has a very important reveal to the story. It's something that Igor needed. If you would like to find out just what "Von" means, translate it from Icelandic. The flower in the picture is a Hydrangea. It's a message from Von to Igor.