The night was a starry one with the full moon in its majestic queen beauty.

The wood, in the spring breeze, composed psithurism with dried leaves

From the bygone winter rustling and hustling on the dry path–

While the young leaves tremble silently.

Relaxed, serene was the night, as the hamlet was getting ready to go to sleep.

An owl hooted, a nocturnal bird flew away shrinking away above the cottage–

The call seems to be a shaken one, it might be persuaded

By its enemy, by s’one who want him dead.

Enmity has arrived from enemy which again taken birth from friendship

When it has turned sour for issues -s’ times trivial, s’times not–

Thus trembling, in both matter, the very foundation of

Trust, loyalty and many other shared feelings.

Meager flame of the lamp was flickering making me a tremble silhouette

On the wall. It’s another me, as it seems, was pasted there, by–

Ripping my soul apart–one sitting attentively, impatiently;

Another one there mocking its another half.

A distant neigh–under the breath it was–caught the attention.

Is it? Is she coming at last? My calm soul tremble as the sound

Of hooves reached–muffled though it is.

But am sure, the sound was of hooves.

The heavy spring breeze touched me as I step outside; I was washed–

By the yellowish mystic light of the moon–

It was silvery, it was enchanting–

Making me lost ’til an owl hooted.

The hooves are coming up rapidly, but, not as much–

It’ll break the sleep, or drowsiness, of the hamlet–

And the nocturnals–the vigilante especially–

With no ethics, no rules to follow.

A nocturnal bird called. It was specific one, pre-decided and in-used–

For these type of meeting. I’ve to go, I responded–

In reply tone as an original one would.

The reply came as if two were mating.

She was there by the waterfall. Her horse–a black Afghan one–

Roaming and grazing the grasses on the bank.

She removed the veil of shawl from her head–

Down, letting her beauty get redefine.

We sat on a uprooted rock beside the fall as we did e’time.

I hold her hand. She mine. I looked at her eyes.

The shadow of us tremble

In moonlight.

I embrace her ‘fore she say anything. She tightly embrace me–

Her camphorated enthralling odor made me numb.

She embraced me more tightly than other nights.

(I) felt a tremble in her heart.

A twinge in my belly. It was moving deeply inside me with moments–

I never leave her, but, grasp her hand

To make it stronger and firmer.

This was needed.

She loves me I know, but, either of us has to leave ‘fore the climax.

And it should me ’cause the promise

I made to her dying father

For seeing she was safe-at any cost–

Even it’s cost my life.

The knot of embrace loosened as she let me fall down on the grass

Hitting my temple. She stood up. Her–

Figure got tremble or is it mine

View as I bid her farewell.

Princess, I know to save the prince I’ve to go. He’s a weaker, meager

Character. But, he is the future

Of ours, of our kingdom…

Don’t cry…

Give me 

Your smile…

What you say I can’t hear,

(but)

I know you’re apologizing for the deed…

Don’t be…

You’ve selected the right path…

‘morrow when I’ll not be up

For the fight, you’ll know…

You’ll know…

You’ll realize that.

Go, my prince, go…we’ll meet again,

But,

Today,

For this lifetime,–

We need to be separated…

For many, or might be few, births the same scene is being acted–

S’time she was a lady in a cave,

Her beauty getting redefine

In the tremble flicker…

S’time she was a lady from a rich family,

The grandeur of brought up

Redefining her beauty–

(which get)

a tremble in a chandelier…

For many, or might be few, births the same scene is being acted–

It was she in whose hand I got killed with exceptions in few.

Like that night I got killed–self

In the hand of a man,

Her suitor

In that dream,

In a duel…

The scene change, the period of the act change, the reason change;

(But) we getting separated–every time–

Is the only unchangeable

In this repertoire

Last night was one such night amongst many when I die again.

The dream, nightmare in childhood and growing-hood,

Now don’t scare me

’cause I had met her

In this lifetime

And had got separated

In this lifetime…

(The reason foreshadowed in the last night dream)

How many births we had taken to get be together and then get separated?

How many births we shall take to get together to prove the truth of forever?

(Or) is it what forever is?

Living together

In memoirs,

In dreams

Painting: The Nightmare by Henri Fuseli (1741-1825)

Daily Prompt: Tremble

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5 thoughts on “The Dream of My Assassination

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