The Crystal Palace

There stood the crystal palace, sparkling and shining,

All alone in the forest on that moonlit night,

Towering the pine trees with its magnificence.

There seemed no sign of life.

UN-inhabited and single she stood,

Surrounded by wild flowers and poisonous mushrooms.

The palace was huge and precariously attractive.

There were a myriad of rooms which were open wide,

All except one locked with a golden lock.

The locked room was a chest of mysteries and secrets,

The key to which was lost,

Or saved for a special traveler

She looked like a princess, beautiful and bold,

Staring at the grass engraved path from a balcony,

As-if, expecting an anonymous  guest whom she could welcome.

She kept waiting and waiting,

With her doors wide open,

For that miracle to happen.

Alone came a traveler on a white horse,

Weary and tired in search of a home.

The sight of the palace made him awestruck.

The first encounter of the traveler made her blush,

She felt he was the one , for whom

She kept her secret chest sealed all these decades.

Off he got from the horse,

Charming was he,

Like a prince from an untold fairy tale.

Having traveled the world,

Never before had he come across a palace,

With such beauty and elegance.

A soft wind touched his face,

The dry leaves moved,

Making a path for him to enter.

He set his foot upon the palace with a soft thud,

Not to hurt the crystal floor,

Like a bride on her wedding night.

The moment his first foot prints were felt,

She came alive,

Like a fish set free into the water.

He touched her crystal pillars and stairs,

Relishing her, uncovering her-

Unfathomable  beauty.

He felt her like a glass of old wine,

Un-earthed centuries later,

 From a wooden trunk, hidden deep below the earth’s crust.

The more he explored, the more

Ambiguous she seemed.

Forcing him to traverse further.

At last he came across the chest,

With the golden lock,

The key to which was lost.

Curious was he to know,

What lay beneath the locked room,

Which remained untouched and afresh.

She knew it was time,

To set herself free, to open herself up,

To unleash the mysteries and secrets.

The lock broke open,

The moment he touched the door,

Letting him enter without an iota of bewilderment.

There at the center was something,

Which radiated light,

He closed his eyes as if from a sun gaze.

It dimmed its glow, for him to see,

He seemed speechless,

At the sight of the secret.

It was a crystal heart,

Pure and tranquil.

Glowing like a freshly lit candle.

He took the little heart in his hands,

With such caution and care,

And watched it like a child enjoying the night sky.

 From then on every single day,

He polished her heart with a piece of velvet cloth,

 And kept it close to him.

But he was a traveler and he had to go,

Abandoning the palace,

Leaving it back to its mysterious loneliness in the dark forest.

He mounted upon his horse-

 And set forth his journey at the odd hours of the night

And rode through the forest path never looking back.

The wind was wild,

And the dry leaves danced and whistled ,

Echoing an old tune of some ghostly ballad.

The water in the nearby pond,

Was like a witches’ brewing pot,

Boiling with revenge.

The crystal heart shattered,

Blood oozed out of it making the palace bloody,

As he kissed her goodbye.

 And again there she stood -

all broken and tattered,

Like a ghostly bungalow.

Years passed by, came another traveler, 

Upon a black pony and he stopped before the palace door

 As he saw a white horse rearing.

He searched the palace,

For a company, to share that bottle of-

Red wine .

He reached  the room with the golden lock, 

The door opened with a frightening creak.

He marched forward brushing aside the cobweb.

The room was as dark as it could be,

As he made his next move,

His feet stepped on to something.

The room was suddenly lit,

There lay the corpse of a man,

Who had the look of a Prince.

Next to him lay, inside the golden chest

a shattered heart, which seemed at peace in the joy of revenge .

While the white horse at the courtyard neighed  waiting for his master’s return.