When his heartbeat slows and the fight is won,
With the boys at rest and the pirates done,
The sun sinks slow to its far off home,
The boy goes out and sits alone.
It’s times like these in the pitch of night,
with the stars and the moon shining just right,
That the leader strips off his Peter name,
And for he moment becomes the Boy again.
They said it won’t hurt; that’s only half true,
For when that star of his shines out in the blue,
The boy holds his breath against the pain,
As his heart tugs and searches for her name.
He doesn’t remember, they got that right,
But Asters don’t go down without a fight,
She fights through his Starstuff gallantly,
Tugging at the boy as he watches the sea.
He closes his eyes to find the memory,
But it’s lost like a shell in the deep blue sea,
Getting washed up on his beach with the sand,
A little voice whisp’ring one word: “Pan.”
And just like that, the tide pulls away,
Pulling the shell and his mem’ry of that day.
But he tries to hold on with all his power,
Because he knows it’s played its final hour.
The voice is calling, like light from his star,
Like something big’s happ’ning, but it’s just too far.
The Starstuff made him what he wanted, but there’s one thing clear:
He likes being a boy, but he wishes Molly were here.
Goodbye Christan Week: Day Four
“The chase is on! The die is cast! The game’s afoot! I want that treasure, boys! Catch me a Neverland!”
Goodbye Christian Week: Day Three
“Adieu, Pan! But believe this: Where’er you call home, keep your back to the wall! For just when you least expect it, there I’ll be! The Stache, right under your nose. Clap if you believe!”
“You’re the ying to my yang! The semi to my colon! Dammit, boy, you’re the wind beneath my clippéd wing!”