Laughter of an innocent child,

Relinquishing thirst from drinks mild.

Basking in the gentle and warm sunlight.

Having the beautiful you by my side.

Dear mother, where did you go...?

Wild cows now ask me, what path do I show?

The flying bird and the boy,

Chasing featherless to destroy.

Oh, why?

Oh, why...

The battle with The Void was one that did not make much sense,

It wasn't a fight, nor was there any lingering pain.

But perhaps the battle was merely won if seen from a certain lense,

Maybe Gilgamesh's strength had victory as a gain.

With the weighing heavier,

There was no end to end's barrier.

He floated again suspended,

Nowhere did he go, no venture wended.

Until he saw a spark of light, a bright inflexion.

But this wasn't a source, rather mere reflection.

He sought to chase the light nonetheless,

He sought to escape this nonsense obsolescence.

Upon approaching closer to the light,

He saw mirrors within his sight.

In the mirrors he saw vision,

Unexplained phenomena of this prison.

A boy of glory with a sword in his hand,

Having the thought of conquering this land.

His eyes were red and his hairs were golden, 

Not a mere mortal; not a mere human.

He stood with passion in his eyes,

Sought sun's glory in the sunrise.

A bird full of feathers began to fly,

He chased after it into the sky.

The vision broke,

Another mirror manifested itself before him with a stroke,

He saw a mirror reflecting himself brilliantly,

red eyes blond hair but naked from the top to rare.

He also stood against a bird under the sky, but it was different; featherless about to die. 

Yet it stood on its one claw undeterred, not giving up even if armageddon occurs.

He saw himself chasing, or accurately his sprite,

The featherless bird in the dead of night. 

The gaze of his sprite was telling,

Demise of the featherless bird it was foretelling.

The vision confused him but told him unvoiced,

That now here right now he is to make a choice.

Chase the bird or chase the boy,

Gilgamesh was met with two ploy.

Choosing which would affect him?

Chances of guessing right were slim.

Chase the bird who flew high,

But then he would let the featherless die.

Chase his sprite into night beyond,

But then he will lose sight of Alzephezion.

He didn't know though which leads to what,

But the decision must be made quick otherwise all would be lost.

Two mirrors stood in front of him intimidating, 

A sense of great despair yet boundless hope assimilating.

Choose the boy filled with gay,

Chasing the bird in the light of the day?

Choose the featherless bird and forsake light,

Chasing the bird at the dawn of the night?

In a state of mind defenseless and delirious,

Pity took hold over his behavior imperious.

And so he leaped to seize the bird featherless,

Shattering the mirror and embracing a fate treacherous.

“He was no longer a habitant of the void,

He had transpired from where worlds collide.

Fell in a world full of mystery,

Different realm with different history.”