Dream

 A voice so thin and fragile as a child unborn

Who is it talking to the drunk soul?
Wake up from this dream flowing from with in
To the worlds HE sees in the dreams!
The mirages HE sees keep tempting HIS hope
The smile HE enacts to keep moving
All born out of this curious question
WHY!

Spinning and spinning deep into the heart of the web
Stuck? Or is it the rule set by the time?
for the sane mind is growing weak...
To fall prey to the demons?
As if the hand of the clock keep chasing
HIS purposeless WORDS! Wonders if time will ever age
grow old enough to DIE... Stop chasing!
WHEN!

No wine could burn the angst growing in the womb
How long will it take before it would pierce the womb
To see the first ray of the wicked light?
Before it would consume the source from the inside out?
For the purpose of the poetry is loosing its will
No matter how elegantly HE tries to enact,
At the end its all going to arrive at the point
Where a mountain of questions lie... unanswered!
HOW!

Will the thoughts cease from running? And find rest?
For they have run a long mile to reach the destination unknown
As the time ticks for the sun to turn grey and diminish
The kingdom of Leo seeks the answers
Before the eleven friends mourn for the eighth
For the monsoon will soon descend like a swift thief
Awaiting none... swooping the worlds HE once lived!
When the page containing HIS poetry is shredded,
The World will begin to dream, is when HE will wake up!
To see a new world... to start afresh...