Eternal Slumber
Noxious breath of the serpent vile,
cast a shadow, deathly somber.
Suffering in its venomous presence,
the princess slid into a charmed slumber.
Darkness had never felt so grim to his eyes as it did when a trembling eunuch blurted the ill tiding of the unwaking princess to the lord. Impassive and inert like stone, he remained seated on his throne. His hands clutched the golden scepter in a vice like grip, as though the regal baton would redeem him from drowning in the sea of distress that threatened to deluge his soul. The hardened grey eyes of the lord remained staring into the gloomy nothingness that lay stretched before his eyes. The diamond studded throne shone as gorgeously as ever, as did the jeweled eyes of the three beasts of the scepter glare out of their golden heads with an awesome ruthlessness.
Lain on the soft bed of blue bird feathers, her bare limp body appeared like a vision of empyreal beauty. The unblemished smoothness of the pearly white skin likened her visage to that of an exquisite figure carved out of mother of pearl. Luxurious tresses spread around her beauteous face like the soft rays of the moon that defy the drape of silver clouds and spread across the dark sky in enchanting dreamy swirls. The calm that had descended upon her while she lay hearing the lullaby still lingered on her countenance, as a blissful smile remained frozen upon her dainty pink lips.
The appalling message of the unspeakable disaster brought the sombre maven rushing to the side of the unwaking princess. He sensed a faint pulse throbbing in her veins. Relieved though that all was not over, the tiding was still far from pleasing; for there was neither a symptom of affliction nor a sign of assault to be found on her visage. Yet, everything he did to heal the princess failed to wake the princess from the extraordinary slumber that weighed upon her inert spirit. The inexplicable malady held the maven in an uneasy bewilderment while sands of the hour glass slid from one chamber to another, in the tedious cycle of time.
Many moons rose and set in the westerly horizon but there was not a single moment that brought solace to the anxious heart of the Lord. The heiress lay faint in her mysterious sopor as the maven lost his sleep, conjuring devises to break the spell that had cast the mysterious somnolence over the princess. Suddenly as though hit by a lightning, the maven recalled the crystal ball he had gifted the heiress. He rushed to the castle in search of the magic orb. But his horrified eyes only met those of the three deadly serpents that looked back at him with stony eyes, while the hollow receptacle lay empty, mounted upon the mammoth ivory pedestal.
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