I can make World of Warcraft
into high literature
(If you would listen)
Or Ke$ha into a classic
(the ballads of my generation).
Because art that is for the unwashed masses
is still art,
if you are smart enough to see it.
"My heart sleeps in the Emerald Dream."
Is still the most romantic thing
I've
ever heard
and Tyrande stopped saying it
seven years ago.
I remember falling in love
in Azeroth.
A timeless love
for a full-hearted woman
gave one brother the strength to fight for his people,
and drove one brother to madness
(the one who, all things considered, loved her more).
Maybe that was her objection -
To come before all else requires a certain level of
helplessness
which has always been beyond her.
This huntress, priestess, leader,
lover.
A man guided by selfish love,
propelled by the emptiness of being
the second-best twin
Searching, always, for his place
Is no kind of man for Tyrande.
With a destiny thrusted upon her,
she had no time to be his keeper,
or his guide.
Instead did she pick the man
who would leave her alone
(not expecting, of course, ten thousand years
of peace and quiet)
to rule her people,
only to be told "no" when it mattered most.
(She did it anyway.)
For a long time I was disappointed.
You wake her lover up,
Just to split them into their own stories?
Where is the undying devotion?
Ten thousand years of waiting, and wanting?
Have they fallen out of love?
Of course not.
The older I get,
The more I realize that love is not togetherness.
It is the coming together after distance.
It is the letting go when someone leaves.
Maybe she did love that second best twin,
after all,
And in ten thousand years, maybe I will understand.
And look, here it is -
A poem of love and loss,
pain, and growth -
certainly not low art.
