That drowning
in the waters of physical lethargy
The
engulfment with the mercury-heavy lids
Sparing only
a white slit, open
A doorway
for the penetrating cone of rays
That slowly
creeping smile of the face
Then a sudden
monotonous jerk, a conflict of the senses
Trying to
grab on to the dream, chasing it
The shutting
of eyes in vain
Beckoning
the estranged subconscious pictures to grow roots
Why don’t
they come alive all over again?
I’ll sleep
longer, try harder
If only it continued
from where it ended
For welling
up many fathoms deep in my heart,
Is my burgeoning
hope that it transforms into reality
And hate to realize
that I have been woken
Cajole me to
that surreal land
And I promise
not to hesitate to step ahead straightaway.
Let me sink
in my own slumber
And I
promise I’ll visit you again
Until then,
lend me a hand
Let us wipe
clean the creases on the path.
(P.S. How often we wish that while having a quiet peaceful sleep, we not be woken or disturbed, lest the sweet dream with which we cocoon ourselves will be ripped apart. How we wish that we could cling on to our sleep and reach the very end of the dream that we dreamed. How we wish it to shape into reality......
But if it's a horror dream that we are seeing, how we wish later that we hadn't slept at all ;):))
