Yesterday’s Dream.

(Image Credit : Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo)

She lifted her pompous fluffy dress a little so that her heel could make a crackling sound on the gravel floor. As she walked along the ancient arches of her fortress, the darkness of solitude gave out an empty echo.

Sunlight filtered through the overhead glass panes as the linear beam manifested itself on the opposite brick wall. A little farther, the rustling leaves suspended a sense of foreboding in the air.

The ten years had been a comatose dream. It seemed just yesterday that the kingdom was rejoicing for her coming-of-age ceremony. It was just yesterday that she was flanked by maids running helter skelter to get the right shade of blush for their young princess. It was just yesterday, that she was wearing an oversized dress whilst the seamstress was about to work her magic.

Yes, it was that moment when spontaneous cries surrounded the impenetrable castle. Metal clanked and red liquid flowed. The cheers for the princess turned into wails of help. It was just yesterday, that she was knocked out cold and locked away into the secret cellar by her mother to keep her away from the wrath of the war.

And now, ten years later, her dreamy eyes opened to a veil of darkness. She felt for the door and the rusty hinges didn’t show a moment of reluctance. She covered her eyes to protect her sensitive eyes; a decade of unawareness to the blinding sun.

Patches of dried blood everywhere, but not a soul to be seen. Broken swords and stories. Memories overwhelmed her temporarily amnesiac mind.

She climbed the twisting stairs, three at a time, as the hem of her dress tore through the sharp screws of the railing. She made her way to the armoury.

Discarded her grandiose attire and put on a metal suit. Threw away her hair ornaments and donned a helmet. Pulled out her rings and held a sword. Flung her heels across the room and substituted them with spiked shoes.

All those years of sword training would not be for naught. Even if there is no horse waiting to be saddled, her feet are sturdy. Even if there is no kingdom to protect or fall, she will proclaim the dictum. Even if there is no enemy in sight, she will scavenge the remains.

Because every princess doesn’t wear a tiara.

This is for Sue Vincent’s #writephoto prompt

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Click here for the previous post. (Instinctual Intellect.)



(Image Source : Google)

The silhouette of my angel is a pristine white,

She flies overhead in an invisibly nimble reality,

Flailing her arms, in the gusts of wind which only I can feel.

Her voice is my impersonation,

Sometimes a soft vibration, 

Sometimes a howl of defiance.

She gazes into the chasm of my unaware eyes,

As I daydream a daily fantasy.

She speaks of authentic naivety,

But then basks in her own limelight of pride and wisdom,

Making a muddle of my grey cells.

Her shadow trails mine into a canvas of silhouettes,

Watching my back in times of peril.

Her motives are indecipherable,

A mere snap of whimsical giggles.

Yet we are connected,

My angel and me;

The voices manifesting in my head.

Thank you for checking out this blog! 
The above free verse poem is in response to the Daily Post prompt ‘Silhouette’.

Click here for the previous post. (An Amateur Philosophy.)

The Paralysis of Coziness.

(Image source : Pinterest)

As an anti social being, the most coziest place is undoubtedly the bed I sit on all day, reclining in a position which sickens my spine and bloats my stomach. 

But it’s cozy. Not for my family but for me it is. As I type this out, I’m in the exact position spoken about. This is like sitting under the waterfall of knowledge. The ideas flow. At the cost of cholesterol.

Having this new anime opening on loop helps a lot. Being at peace with your external environment and yourself is the most comforting thing ever. And that is only possible if you are at home. Stepping outside is another reality, another dimension, a labyrinth. 

There are people who will judge you, try to bring you down. But on your cozy bed, you can have your guard down all the time. If it gets a little colder, I just take a blanket and coffee and let the combination warm me. 

Put on the laptop/tablet/phone and run an anime marathon. In fact, if you are within the garb of the blanket, you can perform an impromptu jig with the anime opening and no one would know.

And when I’m in a more serious mode, whilst I decide that I HAVE to complete a certain amount of episodes, I tie my hair up in a bun. 

I’m ready for all the subtitles you throw at me.

The coziest place is abound with the most beautiful and traumatizing memories. Because if it is a place where you shared a belly laugh with your favourite characters, then it is also a place where you broke your heart over them.

All I want to say is that when I step out of my house, the yearning for that comfort makes me want to survive no matter how hard life is. And I’ll return for it.

Thank you for checking out my blog!

This was for the Daily Post promt, ‘Cozy’.

Click here to see my previous post (Learning from the Sky.)