Love Enchained

Wound my heart, sear my soul,

Did I not claim I was yours to take?

Like a lovely rose drawing blood

With its piercing thorns,

Your embrace stings me to the core,

And yet…I remain where I am.

Your insidious lust binds me

I sing of chaste love, blithely

Ignorant of those bonds

That ravage me of my strength

Only to be immersed

In the inferno of your self.

Flames tinged with the dying blush

Of fading memories, speaking of days

Humane and generous in their wake,

Your reflection is distorted,

Your spirit is singed.

In your pursuit of dominance,

Making me a willing slave

Would my demise sate your thirst?

Nothing more would please

My twisted yearning for vengeance

Than to see you lost

In self-immolation

Oh, would I not forsake my fragile existence!

To see you soaked in my life-blood,

So near and yet so far…

Your endeavour could never make me yours.

..........................................................................................................

No, I didn't think I could write something like this. Call it expiation, call it catharsis, I don't know how to define it. 

That said, I shall only reappear when the rains are kind enough to nurture the sapling of creativity to the fullest. :)

Nemesis

Words aren’t needed, yet

Who said you would escape quietly?

Under a guise of adoration,

You cast your spell.

Did you take me to be so weak,

So as to simply buckle

Beneath your intimidation?

Your rivalry would have been an honour,

But I’m content to smile back.

You don’t realise, do you?

The favour you did me.

Your resilience burns through

A pervasive aura of merciless strength.

It is nothing but one of your tactics

Leaving me defensive.

I envisage you standing over my shoulder,

Smirking in delight,

For each step I take, each word I speak…

Someday, I will be where you are.

...........................................................................................................

I'm still not happy with my writing. *sighs* 

Other than that, I realise that words have power. I must be careful with my author's notes in future. 

The Insightful Charm

The translucent, curved pendant gleamed like the moon, reflecting greyish undertones from its circular countenance.

“Do you like it?”

I nodded, too overwhelmed to respond. “It’s chalcedony, isn’t it?”

Another nod confirmed my guess.

The medallion dangled from the delicate silver chain I held in my hand, working it to and fro.

“Here, let me,” he offered, taking the ornament from my hands and tying it around my neck.

I sighed. “Can I thank you enough?”

He chuckled. “It’s fine. You needed a charm.”

I was too caught up in observing how my new possession sparkled and glimmered in the fading sunlight, until he leaned in to whisper, “Sometimes, that is all one needs, eh?”

For a moment I was taken aback, not comprehending his words.

He pointed towards the glittering pendant. I looked at it closely, until it struck me as to how it seemed to take on a life of its own, becoming the sun itself as rays shone over its surface.

I couldn’t distinguish any colour.

He sighed, more so out of contemplation than disquiet. “You see, had it been any other stone, it would have drawn on the light to enhance its own beauty, whereas this little piece simply becomes a medium for the light to shine.”

I saw the meaning as clear as day. Glancing towards him in astonishment, I managed to utter. “You certainly don’t mean…”

He nodded, smiling. “Why did I say that it suits you? Because you yourself are like this piece of chalcedony.”

...

Lame, I know. But the fact that school is about to begin, tomorrow, does this to my writing, I suppose. In any case, I did want to flesh out the analogy of the pendant, but neither can I find the words, nor I have the inclination to do so. Maybe later, perhaps. 

Matrimonial Affairs

She had always been able to figure what she wanted to do, despite the veil of indecisiveness that she wore just to give others the benefit of doubt.

But today...she didn’t know if she could withstand the consequences if she chose either way.

The sparkling diamond set in a slender gold ring wasn’t making it any easier.

She was being asked to marry. Him. The sheer intensity of the moment, as he knelt down and proposed her, shook her from head to toe.

Say, how would it be if we were married?

He couldn’t get more obvious than this. She should have known better.

“We have been living together for, what, like two years? Why do you want to marry me?”

A slightly offended look crossed his face and she bit her tongue. Oh dear, that sounded completely wrong.

“No, scratch that. I mean, it’s not that I don’t want to marry you, but, it’s…it’s…isn’t it a bit too sudden?” No sooner did she say than her hand went to her mouth in shock, her eyes wide and beguiling – the very picture of confused innocence.

He laughed. “Don’t tell me the idea of marriage has never crossed your mind.”

She looked into his eyes, surprised. In her frenzy, she had not noticed the subtle signs that showed how equally difficult it was for him. The hand that held the ring shook in the slightest, so did his gaze which wavered every now and then.

She took a moment to ponder on his remark. Of course the idea had come to her: which girl doesn’t dream of marriage? Nevertheless, fantasies apart, she had honestly not reckoned that their relationship would come to this threshold, not now at least.

However, as she looked at him, taking in his profile as he continued to kneel, she knew without a doubt how fortunate she was. Considering their diverse backgrounds and how their personalities were poles apart, she had never expected him to be so adjusting, even compromising. The very fact that he was proposing to her of all people; this simple, unassuming girl who could be said to be living in the shadow of her glorious counterparts (whom he knew, obviously) was admirable.

She looked away, slightly smiling. “I cannot dishonour your esteemed proposition, can I now?”

                                                                                 

A sigh of relief escaped him but he didn’t spare her a retort. “You’re not obliging me.”

“Of course not,” she affirmed as she knelt down to the same level as him, extending her hand.

They looked into each other’s eyes as he gently slipped the ring onto her finger.

No words were needed.

Afflictions of Solitude

The door opens into darkness. She peers into the void, trying to discern any trace of a normal, bustling home.

“I’m home,” she whispers. Silence greets her in response.

She sighs as she kicks off her shoes and hangs the keys over the rack. Closing the door to her room only adds to the finality of the quiet that pervades through the whole house.

She leans against the door, closing her eyes. The wood against her skin does nothing to reassure her.

“Reassurance for what?” she wonders. Reassurance for the fact that she was a victim of her circumstances – it wasn’t her doing that it was her mother’s critical behaviour, her father’s temperamental, volatile tendencies that wreaked havoc on this fragile castle of dreams they called their ‘home’?

She ambles towards the dressing table, catching sight of her reflection in the mirror.

Against the soft moonlight, her complexion is ashen. Her eyes are wide, speaking more of vulnerability than innocence. Her lip slightly trembled and imagined chills pricked her skin, making her shiver.

“Is this how everyone sees me?”

Frail, weak, prone to anguish. A helpless child trapped in not so benign environs, where at each step her makings of a genius are refuted and buried under the increasing weight of insecure acquaintances and selfish motives.

Or was it all her thinking?

Her hand extended towards the mirror, the fingers lightly caress the outline of her face.

Oh, what not she would have given to have someone hold her lovingly.

Tears run down her cheeks, but she is rendered catatonic.

“Just who…am I?”

She only wished she knew. Or someone knew.

But the answer was lost somewhere within her soul. She didn’t have the strength to seek what she needed the most.

She sinks onto her knees, her head hung low. The looming silence is only broken by her quick breathing.

Darkness seemed to be closing in. She moans, a wave of despair washing over her. Dragging herself to her bed, she curls up, waiting to be taken into an impenetrable slumber.

Sleep extends its arms in a lulling comfort, the only consolation she has ever known.

But then again, who ever knew of the sheer despondency she suffered through, day and night? The façade of strength doesn’t fade away, even against utter hopelessness.

“Is this what life turns out to be for everyone?” she wonders dreamily.

As always, her words echo and reverberate against the bare walls of an empty house, of a lonely heart…

...

Depressive, I know. However it's a result of the catharsis I had been going through. That's all I can say.

I Call Your Name...

In the looming silence,

A word resounds –

It is but your name,

Which I speak, as if,

Uttering an incantation.

I close my eyes

And I see your name

Etched deeply, never to be effaced.

It surfaces as if a rock,

Against which I lean

Seeking strength amidst a stream

Of turbulent emotions and thoughts.

Do you hear me calling?

Does my voice ring in your ears,

My thoughts rattle your mind,

My memory haunt your dreams?

Or am I merely a presence,

Banished to a corner,

Not to be seen, heard, felt and touched?

I wonder, oh, I wonder,

Whether it is your name

That has bound me to your spell

In a bond that is irrevocable,

Even if I could turn back the time?

Abandon

The sight of the vast ocean never failed to lift her spirits.

Trudging through the sand as the sound of the crashing waves and the crescendo-like roar of the unceasing wind washed over her, it felt as if the sea sparked life into every fibre of her being.

She came to the shore where the colossal waves dwindled to flowing water that gently lapped against her feet.

As always, she was torn between dashing into the water and playing it safe, for she didn’t know how to swim.

But as she waded further into the waters, it was as if the sea were continually calling out to her…

…To do what? She wondered, but there was no answer.

Except, perhaps, an overwhelming feeling to simply submerge in the lulling comfort of the ocean.

At the sudden realisation, she smiled. With joyous abandon, she strode ahead as the waves threatened to immerse her. They would take her away, away from this troublesome land.

But then again, she couldn’t have asked for more. She laughed and cried; sometimes running across the wet strip that separated the waters and the sand, sometimes dodging and riding the breakers. Her dress clung to her, dripping wet and her hair resembled a tangled mess of seaweeds. But she was happy, carelessly ecstatic as she blithely plunged further into the current.

Until, a hand pulled her roughly onto the shore.

Breathless, she found herself looking not at the endless ultramarine that had filled her vision moments before, but into dark eyes that stared at her, doubting her sanity. She shook her head, struggling against the firm grip.

He placed his hands on her shoulders to steady her. “Do you realise what you’re doing?”

She looked up defiantly. “I’m not going to drown!”

“The sea is not going to ask you before it pulls you under. Come on, let’s go!”

She shook her head again, refusing to budge. Her shoulder-length hair stuck to her slender neck and as she met his gaze, her eyes shone. Her countenance presented a contrasting picture of vulnerability and strength. In her steely gaze, he found himself discerning a worrisome feeling of recklessness, as if she was finally going to do what she wanted.

And her wish was known to him very well.

He sighed. “You can’t possibly be thinking…”

She looked askance. “I don’t see any other way. But the sea’s so inviting!” she piped up.

He pointed to the horizon accusingly. “It is not a cure.”

“To the dull ache in your heart, it definitely is,” she retorted.

Surprised, he glanced at the petite, frail frame before him. How had she known that? How had she realized the melancholy he would unwittingly subject himself to, over her present condition?

“You should worry about yourself first, my dear,” he soothed, taking her into an embrace.

He didn’t know if he was doing it to comfort himself more than her.

Breaking away, he grasped her hand, ready to lead her back to the shore. Reluctantly she followed, glancing now and then at the glittering, fluid landscape that she was leaving behind.

She had every intention of returning to it.

Emerging out of the constraining palm trees, she stepped onto the shore as the wind whistled away, overpowering all her senses till she could only feel the slight tugging of air against her fluttering robes, swayed by the hypnotic rhythm of the gale.

The boundless sea remained where it was. Nothing ever changed.

Had it been not so dark, one would have easily seen the young girl tentatively treading towards the waters, prettily dressed in a billowing pale dress that fell beneath her knees, with shoes to match. A hat and the picture would be worth a postcard. But it was night time, and no one was around to ponder upon the young lady’s peculiar visit to the sea-shore.

She brushed back her hair as she squinted, trying to see the waves that ran up to the sand with their white claws, ready to devour anything that came their way. In her mind’s eye, she could picture them vividly, as they rushed up to where she stood and dragged her into the waters, to be lost forever…

She snapped open her eyes. The very image shook her to the bones.

Kicking off her shoes, she walked further, feeling oddly reassured by the howling wind. She ambled towards the wooden pier, its outline clearly visible against the dark backdrop of the sea.

She could feel the firmness of the wood underneath her bare feet as she glanced at the mysterious void beyond her, calling her to take the plunge.

A shout rose above the deafening rumble of the ocean. “Stop right there!”

She turned, straining to see against the light of the lantern. He ran across the sand and hastily climbed up the pier. Setting the lantern aside, he took her by her arms, trembling as she herself shivered.

“You can’t do this. For my sake, don’t!”

Wistfully, she reached out to caress his face as her vision grew misty. “I can’t live like this any longer, neither can you. Let me go.”

He looked away, unable to vanquish the torrent of emotions that tore through him. “I couldn’t save you.”

“You didn’t have to. I brought this upon myself.”

Gazing into her eyes, he managed to utter. “Allow me a chance...to redeem myself.”

She remained steadfast. “No. I want to set you free.”

“Not this way! Not by losing you!” he thundered.

There was no response and as he looked into her eyes, he saw the same careless abandon that ruled her whole life. She gave in to her miseries, she surrendered to people who simply abased her and she no longer wished to relinquish any control over her life that was never hers to begin with.

With a moan, he let her free from his grip and sank to his knees.

She remained where she was, unwilling to move.

Through sheer resolve, he willed himself to stir. He stood unsteadily, staggering across the same sands through which he had run so resolutely before, not sparing a glance even once to what had once been the reason of his living.

As the flickering light vanished among the rustling leaves, she turned towards the sea. Stepping on the edge of pier, her arms spread wide, she broke into laughter that was, ironically so, full of life and joy.

With a smile, she sank into the calming embrace of the ocean, its arms enclosing her into eternity.

Yes, I'm very erratic. Sometimes I might go for days without posting and suddenly I appear out of nowhere. But that is how creativity works.

I should take care the next time I visit a cliff. You don't know when that thought of jumping down overpowers you.

Doesn't mean that I'm suicidal, thank you very much. But yes, the mere thought of how it would feel to do something like prompted this lengthy drabble. And yes, I didn't click the picture. :)