Ghost

Screems screems in the earthen pot dreams draught in the thought hot Like a glass over a cover of earthen pot slips Making the tintaling sounds in the wet lips Sleeps sleeps disturbed in the middle night feels like a Leap year in the extinct eye sight Two tentacles besides your arms scratching Sounds of bats and apes warms reaching Awaken the night insomiacly Eyes stress in suddenly openly now windows open closed making sounds Winds flown in the terraces high pounds fears intruded in body unnecesary Tears rolled in shody unnecesary.