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Ezra Bridger,
Stardust in his veins and his skin is the fabric of the Universe
A smile awkward and lopsided and stretches a bit too wide
Eyes so vibrant, radiant and agonizingly blue it seems surreal
Strands of hair adrift to the breeze of a wind outside reality
Steps so light, so prominent they make and break a silence so loud
His bones, his everything, bend to the Force of his own creation
And he anchors to nothing.
Ezra Bridger,
Is he really there or is he a trick of the grieving mind
Because the space shifts around him like a dream or nightmare
And he feels like an echo of all that is familiar
From something trying to imitate someone, like unbelonging—
But the heat on his skin is burning the touch
Ever and always, Twin Moons reflect light from the Suns,
So maybe he is just different.
Ezra Bridger,
To be powerful is to pay an equal price
Childlike glee barbed with wisdom from experiences
A Beacon of Hope shines its brightest only when shrouded in darkness
Underneath most Saviors are merely someone so little, but I digress—
That is what makes them so grand.
(Ahsoka Tano—
Remembers a boy so bright, warm and brilliant
And the power of corruption and the broken in a man
And fears, for the same boy, for the man he might become
And fears, for the man standing before her, if it isn't the worst thing).