Years and days run ahead of us,

The rain falls when the sun hides,

The grass grows and footprints are left,

People die, the battle subsides.

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We were all sworn into a life,

That rolls around in a pattern of change,

The hero will always move on,

Causing aid to a life he can rearrange.

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A hero made his journey,

Friends and foes lay in his wake,

There were three that were both,

In his story they did partake.

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Three friends separated,

Torn apart in their struggle for life,

Nobodies who played their part,

In this particular game of strife.

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Lost beings with empty chests,

Together an Organization,

They fought away for lost hearts,

To comfort their inner frustration.

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Defeating the obstacles,

Always restless, daren't slumber,

An Organization of thirteen,

With an extra number.

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A puppet used to replicate,

Raised as an empty shell,

She was born completely faceless,

A past she could not retell.

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A body of stolen memories,

But a Keyblade in her hand,

She couldn't fight the inevitable,

A fate she could not withstand.

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She ran for her freedom,

And fought for a heart,

Two others she befriended,

Now they stand apart.

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A place to belong,

Ice cream and sunsets,

When she was with them,

There were no regrets.

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One boy older than the other,

Wiser and looked up to,

The one to remember his past,

His desires to carry through.

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He wanted to protect his friends,

He reasoned with them to come back,

But when the worst held up its head,

He raised his hand to attack.

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The other walked away,

It was his back that was turned,

His desires made him leave,

It was answers he yearned.

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He was the hero's Nobody,

He controlled the famous Keyblade,

He became its courageous master,

His destiny he hoped to evade.

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Three friends lost,

Lost for the Hero.

To help...

To reunite...

And to sacrifice.

Each day the story is told,

A breath is held,

We hope for your return.

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The hero wins and the villains die,

That is the rule we must abide by.