Thursday, October 27, 2011

Gold chariots and the likes.

We've all been subjected to grandma tales.
But what left Kiu a little perplexed is if any of them ever came true.
Kiu would walk, into the lonely terrains and mythical thoughts, into those imaginative ideas and floating shadows, often questioning her whereabouts whether she should lay down her instincts onto those tales of yore.
But, what she searches for is not what you and I may understand.

She dreams,
of the strange mix of love and touch,
of life and death.

And then he happened, and the questions were put to rest, albeit for a short while. He's the soul-breaker to her, that she never could be.
Together, they decoded their own red-coloured language. 
Together, they loved. Together they were wounded.

So, grandma, would a prince come to me in a gold chariot.

No, she smiled, they came with their own troubles, and their own whims. 
They came walking down, oblivious to people around
They smiled, and rejected the unnecessary drama, they came with their own subtlety. 
They were princes, no less. 

P. S. Image courtesy, me. Yes.