Chapter- 4 Memories

She spreads the clean sheet over her small bed and settles to undress for the night. Warm hands caress her eyes and she gently removes them. His sword is still hanging around his waist and he is still dressed in his heavy armor. She embraces him carefully to avoid getting pricked by the metal. But she can't avoid it and wakes up suddenly.
His scent is still reverberating in her heart beats. She closes her eyes and another vision comes to her mind. Of an arrogant young rich murderer drinking deep red wine. She filches as she opens her eyes. The liquid she serves him is more of dark blood than intoxicating alcohol. 

Chapter 3 - Misconceptions

He steals discreet glances from his cushioned chair to where she dusts the columns. Her attire is lovely but her status is not. He does not think about the future. She already belongs to him, irrespective of his ways of life. He exploits her at her weakest points. He does not offer her the solace she seeks so desperately. She wears her long hair in a tightly wound plait. He believes that he is the only one in the palace to have them seen free flowing, have run his fingers run in the black mass. 

He does not know how wrong he is.

Chapter 2- The Intoxicating Liquid

She bows ceremoniously with the tray bearing the sinful alcohol. He eyes her wordlessly as she kneels down and pours it out. She offers it to his friends first. He patiently waits for his turn and when she turns to him, he sees the sadness in his eyes. Irony, he thinks as he takes the intoxicating liquid and gulps it down, never leaving her eyes. She tries to hide her disgust as he holds out his glass for more. He knows he will have to pay for his act in privacy. But nothing is more valuable than watching her lips pout in anger and her eyes blaze in concern. He gulps down the fiery liquid again and asks for the bottle. The liquid sure is intoxicating.

The unlawful ritual

This is the beginning of what can be considered as a series. Will continue if I get some more ideas.
Her footsteps were almost inaudible in the dark stone alleyway. All he could see was a faint shadow drifting away into the night. He followed her out but his gait was unsteady from the drinks. The low music of her bangles and anklets guided him effortlessly. His hat dropped in the way and he did not bother to pick it up. Her receding form stopped for a while and she slowly turned around to face him. Her eyes were alive with fervor and his lips carried a smile. He reached out to her in a moment and claimed his very own fairy. She surrendered to her Byronic hero.
Their mating was a little more than unlawful.

A Bit Too Late

I move through the plain fields, the grass glowing beneath my feet in the sparkling moonlight. Hem of my dress occasionally hinder my progress, restricting my movement. My eyes are fretful, searching for the pleasure. I am starved, lonely and desperate. My lips are parched and my eyes are sunken. I do not even resemble the shadow of the woman you had once desired. Every step I take is an effort in a direction I am not sure of. My footsteps echo in my head, piercing the soothing silence. I gaze at the moon which is playing hide and seek with the clouds. It blesses me with light and a cool caress on my wasted skin. The soft cotton clouds are a shapeless veil, fluttering innocently with the wind. They stroke the moon’s face in an undistinguishable emotion.

I stop at the edge of the creek, my breath coming in shallow bursts. The wind is now cold on the droplets of sweat on my arms. I feel my knees buckle as I drop on the bank. My dress is soiled. And so are my hands. I feel my hair create a curtain around my face and I bow it in defeat. I raise my eyes for the last time, using the last ounce of energy I have. And that is when I see you. Far away almost at the horizon, I see you ride towards me. My mind tells me that it is an illusion but my heart refuses to believe. I feel my lips stretch into a smile as I see your figure grow larger and larger in the moonlight. The beauty of the silver landscape is nothing compared to the relief I feel now.

My outstretched arm slowly descends and finally gives into gravity. My spine crumbles under effort and I roll into the damp grass. My eyes are the last of the senses to stop working as your silhouette keeps broadening every second. My prince is a bit too late.

For someone far far away

Between the shades of grey I move
walking past the shrines and graves
I paint you from my dreams 
I hear you from my thoughts
Far away yet bright like a star
You are spek of happiness bizarre
Drawing strength from you I move
Among the shades of grey and white

This was written for somebody I don't know yet am rather fond of. I hope it made him happy. :)

Memoirs Of A Geisha

I am reading this book currently. Its one of my favorites now. I simply love the style of writing. for once I am obsessed with writing in first person. Secondly I find the writing very calm and serene, not giving in to emotions or situation. I like that monotony. I guess I have always been a fan of monotony simply for the sake of security it provides. Anyways, coming back to the book.
It doesnt have a grand plot or anything but just seems to flow with a finite direction. At many points I fail to understand the way protagonist's mind functions. It is on the occasions when her profession collides with her inner self. But then isn't it boring if we could predict every behaviour and reaction? 
Also it portrays a human's ability to protect an innocent part of themselves even when they have indulged in every kind of wrong doing. The profession of the girl required her to use every ounce of wit she possessed for survival, lie at every turn of life. Yet she nurtured her desire for the Chairman, away from every other part of herself.
I also adore the cover of this book. It's heartbreaking to see something so beautiful.
I wonder that's what we all do, striving all our life for one cause. Does the elimination of the goal take away our life? Or is it possible to exist without any longings?