Love, Poetry

Seal

alberto-barrera-29761 (1)

Gaze upon the pair of cutleries

set so deep and fastened

they could almost send a telekinetic stream

before she abruptly

broke the silence in between;

But how can we ever 

be sure that the person 

standing before us

will always be the one

we want-

with an abrupt shift

as the questions came flooding in

too quickly-

what if we find someone

better along the way

someone that is a 

better fit;

Her intent gaze shifts

towards her sister

her pupils widen

eyes asking more questions

than her lips could bring;

Brushing back her raven locks

while taking a moment to ponder

her words came

as intuitively as they were pieced;

You’ll never know little sister

you can never

ever be sure

there will always be a possibility

that someone out there

will be a better fit

than the one you think currently is

so you will just have to

find it in your heart

to believe

to commit

to lock in

he or she;

You will just have to imprint

a tacit seal on your heart

for the one you promised

to spend eternity with.


Photo by Alberto Barrera on Unsplash

Advertisements
Standard
Others, Poetry

Popular

Lights flashing

spotlights hovering beneath marbled ceilings

stale Swarovski chandeliers complementing

those satin robes ladies were dressed in

hand in hand with men in tuxedos and

diamond crusted cufflinks;

The crowd was a picturesque

painted in strokes of wealth, popularity

an epitome of glamour

and the esteemed;

When he finally came through

the 15-foot tall mahogany doorway

soft applauses echoed throughout the grand lobby

all eyes laid on him

the one most popular

and wealthy standing;

His eyes sharpened

jaw eased, broad smile across

wine glass high up above his chin

hailing each and every one’s

trivial accomplishment in coin and fame;

Yet beneath this glittered coating

laid a rotting dull pith

benumbed to solitude and masquerade

for the ages spent in pursuit

of mere fame and money;

As he edged closer to wealth

and acclaim

he fell back from

friends and family;

Yet tragically those in awe can never

see past the tinsel crust

of those lacquered over

by popularity

or money.


For Daily Prompt: Popular

Standard
Short stories

The Last Oath

“First comes duty, second comes duty and the third, is duty as well,” the firmness in her voice echoed behind his head. Yet he knew that behind that robust and sturdiness laid a feeling of uncertainty – so many suppressed emotions and unsaid feelings.

He gave a slight nod, fist on his chest and recited “In the Mother of all beings, in morality we do not discern, in justice we do not decree, only in the equity of humanity do we seek to achieve. By the name of the Palladiums, I, Calle of Yerlua, swear to honor this oath.”

He laid the hilt of his sword against his forehead, with an eagle pommel resting on it.

“Forgive my sins,”

The golden bell of Aedos was ringing – it was midday, the time when men stopped their laboring for ale and lasses get their ears busy with other lasses tales. The town was buzzing with life with Aedos mandatory midday break, folks were busy meddling into their own rackets and leisure, which meant it was time for Calle to begin.

He was standing on one of the taller buildings in town, watching the hundreds of people ramble across the streets – sifting through every single person. The stark contrast of Aedos to Yerlua never fails to amaze him, the folks of Aedos seem to be able to make merry from almost anything. They are from the South to begin with, where the sun shines upon them almost all year long, they have to be happy.

A white-bearded man, clothed in violet silk tunic with a lion branded staff entered the town square. With a gentle smile on his wrinkled face, he was greeting the villagers as he limped across the township. Children were singing songs about him, and women were giving flowers to him. He is the mayor of Aedos, Louis Mayhard. The Mayhards are one of the most influential and popular families in the South of Argen, their reputation of generosity and kindness spreads throughout the land.

Calle has been watching him ever since he came to the township, his eyes combing over the people near to the mayor. He slid down the side of the wall, dropping onto one of the alleys near the town center, hastily maneuvering past people before he ended up behind the mayor.

“No,” he whispered.

His right arm between a dagger – with an eagle pommel on it- and the back of the mayor. Calle’s gaze locked onto a pair of hazel eyes, from a woman with long dark raven hair. His arm was burning – she pushed the dagger deeper- her jaws tightening, and eyes burning with so much anger and hatred that he’d never seen before. Yet he still held onto her wrist – for a brief moment, he thought he saw a tinge of sorrow amongst all the rage in her eyes. Her grip loosened as she pulled out the dagger, Calle thought he saw a teardrop rolled down her cheek – no it couldn’t be.

Hearing a shift in footsteps, Calle quickly pulled her towards him, putting a kiss on her lips; she tried to pull away for that brief moment until she knew what was going on, she gave in. The mayor watched the loving pair before cheering out “Love and rejoice, my fellow Aedons!”, before turning away from the pair.

“You… why did you stopped me, then save me -” she paused, lips pursing, “and now, only after so many years,” she paced along the edge of the porch, with a frown visibly arched upon her brows.

“I didn’t want you to have any regrets -”

“to live with pain and agony every day of your life,” his voice turning unusually soft.

A span of silence caught in between them.

He felt a warm touch to his right arm, as she tied a cloth on his dagger wound.

“Don’t be so stupid the next time, your arm’s going to waste one day if you’re always taking the shield for people.” The initial rage in her tone vanishing with every word she speaks.

As she was tying the last knot, Calle placed his palm on hers.

“We don’t have to live like this, Leiya. We can go back to how we were, just let go of all your pain. The past is what it is but we can live our future the way we want it. We can make it all better.”

Her eyes riveted into his, her gaze was still fierce and strong. Yet he could feel her fingers loosen up – it was like her heart and head were playing the tug of war. He knew he had to say it now.

“Leiya, I know I swear an oath to the Palladiums, but I will give it up without a second thought if it were needed to save you. Before I am a man for the Palladium, I am your man, Leiya Vansworth. I am yours before I am anyone’s.”

The words that he had kept with him for 15 years, he finally dared say out. It wasn’t how he pictured them to come, they always came out different whenever he tried to practice saying them; but he was glad this time it fully conveys his innermost feelings, although it certainly felt abit dramatic.

Yet these were the words that had kept them apart for 5 moons; the silence that estranged them for so many uncountable days. He just couldn’t waste all those years anymore.

2 moons back when he almost died from an infected wound while on a mission, he promised to find her and tell her everything that he felt once he recovered. He spent 3 moons searching for her around Argen, getting bits of tales of a raven haired woman with hazel eyes traveling across the country – so many false trails and excessive hoping- until he finally heard from Vineis that Leiya took a job to deal with the Mayor of Aedos. He knew she was gathering her sources and finding the man behind her family’s murder, the only person he couldn’t guess was behind it was the kindest Mayor of Argen.

“Can you really take back a woman with so much pain and blood on her hands?” her eyes began welling up, even as the intensity of her glare still held on.

This was the first time he had ever seen her with tears, a woman who could kill so swiftly without batting an eyelid; the woman who singlehandedly won 5 straight fights against big burly men; the woman who always won him at sword fights since they were children.

He stood up and pushed her body towards his,

“I, Calle of Yerlua, will always take Leiya Vansworth, as long as she is willing to take me. This I swear an oath to.”

Then, he saw it. Her eyes were no longer the shade of fiery hazel, they were shining with the brilliance of joy and serenity – something that he hadn’t seen in 15 long years.

That is when he knew, that duty isn’t his first, second or third. It once was, but it never will be again.

Standard
Love, Poetry

Our Story

If all these

could be woven

into paragraphs

of strings of ink

printed on musty

blank sheets;

how would you

want it to be;

Would it be

of how we meet

the only day out of ninety

that wasn’t chilling

to the depths

of our bones and skin

of how spilled coffee and poetry

somehow coalesce into

soulmates and bliss;

Or would it be

the countless nights of

bellows and cries;

Of endless forgiving and trying

to all our vain attempts

of untying the knot

that we so carelessly bind in between;

Would you rather

the sweet beginnings or

the tumultuous parting

to be our story.

 

Standard
Love, Short stories

Out Of Love

“Mich!”

He turned instantly – palms sweating, pulse racing.

Did she see me?

This is going to be awkward

Do I say hi?

Does she still remember me?

Urgh of course she does! What am I thinking?

A dozen of presumptuous thoughts flooding his mind. After all, this woman was the one he wanted to spend his entire life with at a point in time. The thought of seeing her again 4 years later was making him tense and jittery. He wasn’t sure what he was afraid of – or maybe he did.

Long black waves fall along her sides, with round amber eyes that he had always found so beautiful. Her smile was the same – slightly upturned and dimpled at both ends. Her smile was one of the most precious things to him, because she wasn’t the kind of woman who laughed easily. So back then, he would frequently crack crude silly jokes just to let that rare gem surface; he loved making her happy.

She was standing there, chit chatting with a guy – who is very handsome and seems nice. Probably the guy that she was on a date with at the restaurant just a few minutes ago, he saw them and tried to leave as stealthily as he could, he didn’t want her to notice him.

I hope he is good to you.

No, I hope he treats you even better than I do.

He stood there, subsequently and unknowingly admiring her. It was probably about 10 minutes since he stood there, yet it felt like time had paused momentarily for him. He remembered how he used to look at her while she was asleep – she was a late riser – so he would just lay by her side and admire her for awhile before getting out of bed. Moments like that always reminded him of how lucky and blessed he was; he had his best friend and the most amazing woman on Earth beside him.

He was unconsciously grinning to himself, lost in thought among all the beautiful memories he had with her.

“Kris?”

An oddly warm familiar voice suddenly struck him. He was so engrossed that he failed to notice that her conversation had ended and she was now staring straight at him.

The hair behind his neck stood, his palms were now clammy and his heart rate was a little over the top.

What happened to the plan of avoiding her!

Trying to be as composed as he can, he suavely blurted out a hi. It certainly got rather awkward and uneasy at the start, with all the courteous starters they were having. But things got smoother in no time, they were smiling and laughing – and she wasn’t one to express joy so effortlessly.

“You know, I’ve always loved that smile of yours. Are you smiling more these days?”      He chuckled.

“Haven’t found anyone who could make me laugh as much like you did,” she grinned.

It was probably a joke, yet it said so much about what they once had. Two people who were genuinely in love with the other from head to toe, from the surface to within. Two people who promised to spend their lives together, until the brutality of reality comes knocking. Two people who once swore to love each other for an eternity – they probably still do.

“Michelle… I just want you to know that I have, and will always love you even though we’re not together anymore. The promise that I once made, will always stay valid.” He finally summed up enough courage to say.

It wasn’t a call for reconciliation, he just wanted to let her know that he will always be there for her if she needs him.

That ever dazzling gem on her face lit up – a smile broader than any he had ever seen- and she gave a slight nod before hugging him.

He pulled her closer, he missed having her so close. Though he knew this would be the last time he will ever have her in his arms.

There are going to be some people or maybe just one person in our lives that no matter how hard we try, we would never be able to fall out of love with.

And for him,

she was that one person.

She will always be in his prayers, her name will always send a tingle down his spine and her smile will always be one of his favourite things in the world. She will always be tucked in a corner of his heart.

You don’t need to be with her forever just to love her forever. You just love her for how long your heart tells you to, and somehow it says forever.

Standard
Dreams, Poetry

Caged

I sat in a cage;

When they came

and read to me

stories

of those

who wandered

beyond

these four edges;

Men who

reached for the stars

could fly high in the sky

and cross mountains of all heights;

So I lusted

for an adventure

out of these walls

day in

and out

I fought the bars

that held me in;

Believing that one day

I too

can be like those men

that they read

doing almost

unthinkable things;

Tears

and sweat

I shed

till one day

I see them

came back;

 with a silver key

hanging in one of

their pockets;

They sat

and read

the stories

of those

who conquered the beyond

not once touching the keys

dangling on;

Go out there and

you too can achieve wondrous things

they smiled

then left;

And I sat

baffled and disheartened

wondering what

should I do next.

(If it helps you to understand better, “They” refers to society.)

Standard
Love, Short stories

Regent of the Night

The round, aerial belle of the sky shone it graces upon the vast fields that stretched across the hills and forests.

 She was at her pinnacle, the brightest and roundest.

The night too was at its zenith – the entire landscape resembled an ethereal Eden.

But it wasn’t the one that stole his focus that night.

His view cast upon a svelte figure at the peak of the hill.

She wasn’t very tall but stood lofty amongst the barren hilltop, against the iridescence of the moonlight.

She swayed gently, her arms synchronous with the slight movements of her feet. Her eyes were closed, as if she was moving to the rhythm within her – or to the silent hummings the night whispered in her ear.

She was clothed in a long, cream dress that hugged loosely over her frame – looking as pure and alluring as the night sky. She was still dancing slowly to the natural rhythm, but a slight grin now laid on her composed face; her eyes still fastened.

His eyes moved with every motion she made, with every sway she took his heart thumped a little harder.

The shade of moonlight shone on her, illuminating her even further amidst the bare field. It was as if she was one with the celestial night, and the centrepiece of it.

She opened her eyes – the captivating openings that could speak a thousand words to him.

It was sorrow; it was forlornness; it was longing.

He could sense every tinge of emotions that radiated from her gaze.

A tear fell onto his cheek, as his eyes took abode in hers.

She stopped – her smile widening, seemingly to give him assurance.

Her eyes softened, glimmering.

Then, she vanished into thin air.

His heart sank as he choked the screams of her name.

He pulled out an arm, reaching towards the one that settled among the clusters of stars. He closed his sodden eyes, swaying to the music buzzing in his ears.

The music of the night – the music from the moon.

He knew he couldn’t see her again – until the moon illuminates at her brightest and the night was once again surreal.

Remember me as she who danced under the brightest light of the night, always.

Those were her last words to him.

The last words of the one who became the regent of the night.

Standard