Suspension of (Dis)Belief

Page eighty-seven, and the others before that—
"As if this could happen in reality," you scoffed.
Of course, it's fiction. Of course, detachment is a must
An escapade from reality at the core of its essence.

After seven thousand days when you declared your dream
Of valor and chivalry in the scorching battlefield,
I prayed to the deities you find oh, so questionable
A chance to listen to you once more, your derision of imagination and all.

But the gods or fellow humans might not have heard my plea,
Now, brother, is my turn to reject what seems ridiculous to me.
Let me stay… on the page when we've worn grandma's quilts
As capes and saddles, laughing at our horse's tail aka toilet plunger.

Let me immortalize our memories… Mother's silhouette on the wall.
Yellow and blue yarn balls. The familiarity of our wooden floors.
No ashes and corpses in our childhood playing field.
Just little voices arguing, "As if this could happen."