White Lilies
The pungent scent of white lilies in the air.
A glance,
A meeting of eyes,
Over as soon as it began,
Residual feelings hang in the air,
He obliterates her image from his mind,
And concentrates on his precarious task.
The task of an assassin,
A small group of people walk through the marketplace,
His aim stands among them,
It's the crux in time,
When he must attack,
Sword drawn,
Speed of light,
The deed is done,
Or is it?
He'd slew two guards,
Not the target.
Whom had more forbearance then assumed,
Time distends as the two samurai fight,
Then the insurgent man is gone,
And the assassin is left with vague insidious feeling,
About the deed he has done,
The pungent scent of white lilies in the air.
His master is waiting,
And he returns to the meretricious inn,
And reports his success with deference to his master,
Then leaves to wander the marketplace,
To drown his loneliness in a bottle of Saki,
He tepidly stops for a meal,
Knowing he must eat,
And looks up to see her standing before him,
Her scent,
The scent of white lilies,
Residual feelings soon return,
The pungent scent of white lilies in the air.
It is months later,
And the assassin lives as an apothecary,
Sent away from danger by his master,
With her as his wife.
They live affably together,
Under their pretense,
But deception is under way,
Delayed by growing love,
For the man killed by the assassin,
Had once been her betrothed,
Yet now she loves the assassin,
And he fills her with new life.
Yet others continue the deception,
Using her to get to him.
She goes to stop their plan,
But is betrayed by them in turn,
Her love learns of the deception,
And pursues her through the woods,
His heart broken and shattered,
His mind muddled
With illusion in his eyes.
He finds her with the betrayers,
Whom are bent on avenging a death,
And a battle soon ensues,
Between the assassin and the betrayer.
As he lands the final blow,
Illusions cloud his eyes,
His loves gets in between,
Wanting to stop this bloody fight,
His blade cuts through her and kills the deceiver as well.
And as she falls into the assassins arms,
She tells him to keep on living,
To live for both of them,
She will always love him.
And then takes her final breathe,
The pungent scent of white lilies in the air.
Their house is now a pyre,
Flames lighting up the night,
The assassin makes a vow,
To repent for the blood he has shed,
And his name is now rurouni,
Wanderer,
He carries a reverse blade sword,
And will never shed blood again,
And fades into history,
The faint scent of white lilies in the air.