Dear Anakin,
I got the supplies I needed and then some, I decided to get a bit extra in order to avoid another trip to the village in the near future.
I know it must be getting repetitive now but I simply cannot comprehend how you lasted for so long on this planet as a boy. I'll try to stay strong for Luke, for you, but I can feel myself slipping, and I can feel a dark presence approaching, like some sort of grey storm cloud.
Perhaps it is my own guilt haunting me, I have no way to truly know. I will try to meditate, although I know it won't help.
Since you... left... I haven't been able to find peace in anything.
Everytime I sit down to meditate I begin to think of you brother and well... that never truly leads anywhere good, because no matter how good of times we had together, when I look back upon them all I can see is your face burning, your eyes as horribly red as ever, and hear your last words.
I know this is all my fault, and I know you would never forgive me, so I must never forgive myself.
Maybe you were onto something with the allowing attachment aspect of your views...
I miss you
YOU ARE READING
Lost Star Systems
PoetryBecause even though he's not dead. He's lost. Or: a series of letters Obi Wan wrote (but never sent) to his lost brother after his fall to the dark. (set between revenge of the sith and a new hope)
