Author's Note:Wishing a very happy new year to all the beautiful readers and reviewers out there. (I know I am superlatively late in my wishes) Anyway, I was RE-watching Naruto Shippuden when I wrote this piece of poetic-prose. The inspiration for this fiction was drawn from episode 3 of Naruto Shippuden Season 4- Under the Starry Sky. Now, you may find this piece overly exaggerated and hyperbolic, but this by far is my favourite (and most personal) work on this site that I have come up with. It differs my previous work by milestones and this is my first attempt at poetic-prose so I would love to hear your commentary on it! I know there is massive room for improvement and if you could help me, it would be wonderful. (Be gentle though :) )
A big thank you to all readers who reviewed and favourite-d my previous work. I love you people!
Disclaimer: The characters appearing in the following piece are the creation of beloved Manga artist Masashi Kishimoto. I have also used the character Davy Jones and a line from a famous soliloquy borrowed from Shakespeare's Hamlet.
Frozen
Lost in the labyrinth of thoughts relegated from consciousness times of yore, nostalgia tugs at sinews of the harp that sings the melody of the love lost.
The very fabric of the self, shaken.
The soul is torn asunder by a daunting dilemma that blankets the horizon around the corner.
'To love or to let go?'
As formidable as the conundrum itself, the concoction of memories brew a divine dream. A reverie infused with feelings once betrayed.
There is no drug better than love- it takes you higher and higher still.
The heartbeat whispers what lips fail to intone, ah the inability to articulate what dwells in the core. What is time but a distant concept to those blessed with love. That which resides in the galore of stars and behind the silver line in the clouds, that which transcends mortality, and to metaphysics is not bound. As one treads the un-trodden path, chances an eye at the panorama that un-folds, the stars in the heaven smile, and listen to all that is untold. So profound is the joy of the weeping heart, so immense is its relief on divulging all and everything shackled within.
Broken is she who encountered the fragility of happiness. Broken is she who sports the scars of lost love, the one who turned into the creature of darkness even under the blessed radiance of the sun.
Ignorant eyes scan the facade for crevices, un-observing the nursing tenderness lying behind the opacity of lies woven into reality.
I have no qualms with the way world works, but the same cannot be said for this relentless heart. But, the proclivity towards despondence comes naturally to me now, after all this time.
With every second that passes, the glimmer of hope fades slowly, ever so slowly. All sounds cease to exist, all else fails to leave an impression on the unhinged psyche. The self is reduced to nothing but a throbbing mass of flesh, waiting to be rescued or so the mind pleads. The pain is too unbearable to live with but not enough to pierce you to death. So maybe I should carve out that which is guilty of triggering this bone-breaking soreness, let the world remember me as just another 'Davy Jones', another one who fell to prey to the sickening desire of being valued and cherished, to love and be loved in return.
The eyes that once danced with joy are now bleak. Lost in the darkness, there is nothing in the soul within. All there is left is to wait and wait. Life morphs into an eternal misery, stretching and stretching still; into the oblivion, that awaits this shattered soul. The reverie breaks into a million pieces and more, and still brings no respite to the cursed core. As I march forward with uncertain steps, the way snakes to another cavern of memories long forgotten-for better or for worse that is not known to me yet. I indulge myself in the happiness of the past, knowing better, they are nothing but a mirage. If a mirage it is, so be it. The heart caves in, the knees buckle under the sheer burden of tears, welling up and draining down the cheeks, marring the soft skin with an invisible trail. The unassuming smile that once played on his lips is now gone, leaving behind a stoical person in its wake. The mind hallucinates and comes forth the cause of this pain. I saunter ahead unwilling to give up just yet.
I cannot help but accept the reality-"he didn't really mean it", I whisper to myself in the darkness of the room.
"Sakura, thank you for everything." I hear those words again, in his voice.
Or, maybe he did.
He did mean it, my love argues.
I take the photo frame in my hands. It reminds me of happier times. A time when the four of us- Kakashi-Sensei, Naruto, him and me-were together.
A time, when the two of us were together.
I stare at the photo hard until all else becomes a blur, except for him.
I hold on to it- the frame- firmly, my knuckles going white- because this lifeless piece abounds in memories that are to me like wisps of clouds, so fragile and beautiful- and still there is an unaccounted gentleness in my touch, that is striving to hold on to the filaments of nostalgia.
A familiar, wonted feeling of panic grips me again tonight, as I realize he is slipping away from me, my cognisance. I trace a finger over his outline- panic stricken- memorizing his contours like the lyrics of a song.
A song with a melody that is hauntingly beautiful, just like his eyes were.
Pain.
His obsidian orbs floated in the ocean of pain and anguish.
So much pain.
Maybe this is why none of us hates him. Maybe this is why we cannot let go of him. Maybe this is why we want to save him.
Because it was not his fault.
It still is not.
A lovesick fool, yes that I am.
And therefore, it hurts so much more.
The tears that have welled up in my eyes drop freely under the force of gravity, distorting his image, obscuring my vision. I am not surprised as I realize that I am crying- at the betrayal served to me by my soul- and as lonely as I feel tonight, nor am I ashamed of my weakness.
Just this once, I assure myself.
I reach the precipice of the edge. There is nothing else left for me to do, left for me to be. Therefore, I let go of everything and allow myself to fall.
Fall into the abyss of pleasure unknown, marvelling at the merriment that freedom brings forth.
I close my eyes and bid farewell to the ones who suffer the same...
I hope there is still hope for him.
Hope for us
I hope.
However, as dawn spools in the morning light, all is stark. The heart braces itself for yet another day, knowing what the waiting night will bring for the soul.
