Title:           Requiem
Author:          SilentOrion
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/PnWRy0PK
First Edit:      Wednesday 11th of September 2013 12:06:27 PM CDT
Last Edit:       Wednesday 11th of September 2013 12:06:27 PM CDT

>Sitting on your couch; you quietly pluck the strings of your guitar in a somber melody.
>Your eyes don't really look at anything in particular; they simply point at the ceiling in a glazed stare as the song goes on.
>Each lamenting note is a reflection of your mood; more than that, of your very soul.
>The music drifts from your open window and into the air; becoming quieter and quieter until it dies out in silent obscurity.
>It's just for you; noone else would be able to hear it from how softly you play.
>For this is a dirge of still living death.
>A requiem for your life that never really began.
>It would be possible to play louder, faster; let the notes ring out with a vibrancy and passion that lies long forgotten.
>And yet even if it took a little longer; they would still disappear into the sweeping wind above.
>Even if someone did care to listen to the weeping harmonies that you've weaved with the utmost care; the very efforts of your life; they would still simply walk on as soon as the sound stopped.
>To be forgotten with the rising sun of the next day.
>You used to have dreams and aspirations of being something great; something people would remember.
>Throwing yourself into your craft; you wholeheartedly pursued these dreams.
>But that's all they ever were.
>Doomed to amount to nothing in the face of that ever growing world that seemed to spin too fast for you to ever catch up with.
>Just another face in the crowd; lost in the surge of life, as the pulsing rhythm of the earth went on without you.
 
>And then you came to Equestria.
>A new beginning; a chance to start fresh in a place that seemed to move slowly enough that you could keep pace.
>You thought it would be easier here.
>That your differences would help you to shine as brightly as you did in your minds eye so long ago.
>Nothing changed.
>You weren't the rising star you hoped to be; just a dull glow in the face of this new worlds brightness.
>The days drift by in a flash of bright pastel colors and cute squeaky voices; just as quickly as they did before.
>Pones accepted you with open arms to join their herd as one of their own.
>But nothing ever changed; you still amounted to nothing more than another passing face in the crowd.
>The question of the meaning of life had long gone ignored in your youth.
>Your attitude of living for the present would cast aside the philosophies of people who were your better by far, almost mockingly.
>What did it matter what conclusion they came to?
>Why did they bother questioning it in the first place?
>They were gone now, probably never got the answer they were seeking; so what's the point in asking?
>As the years went on; you found the reason, as the question became more prominent in your mind.
>What's the meaning of a life in the endless stream of time?
>When your efforts will be no more remembered than the blink of an eye that you took 15 years ago, on a sunny day that you thought would last forever?
>This questioning drew you back to an older way of thinking; live for the now.
>But it's so much harder than when you were young.
>Now that you're aware of your own insignificance.
 
>Ending the tune with a final flourish that you know the dropping of the curtain for your own life will not be afforded; you hear the gentle clopping of hooves.
>"T-that was beautiful, Anon..."
>Looking to the window, you see Fluttershy hanging limply on the sill with a dreamy look on her face.
>Her expression changes to one of shock as you beckon her over with a wave.
>Floating into your home, she flaps over to you cautiously; as though wary of a trick.
>Setting your guitar down, you pluck her from the air and lay her across your lap.
>She coos a happy murmur, with a look of contentment across her features as you begin to softly stroke her mane.
>Giving a sleepy sigh; she gazes up at you.
>"This is n-nice... But why...? Is having somepony listen to your song your f-fetish, mister?"
>Staring out the window as you continue to pet her; you think of those melancholic notes that were carried away into the sky, never to be heard again.
"No... It's having someone remember my song when it's over."
>It was just another day that faded all too quickly.