Disclaimer: Final Fantasy isn't mine, and never will be.

((A/N: This just kinda popped out of my mind when I was in the car today, so I wrote it down. It's a poem about Vincent.))

What Manner?

What manner of man am I?
One to cheat my fellows of life?
One to be cheated?

What manner of monster am I?
One to sleep in a nightmare while the world crumbles?
One to dream of the light never attainable?

What manner of savior am I?
Awakened on accident for the bettering of a dying world?
A savior where there was none?