The Nightmare

The nightmare The days pass anyhow But the sluggish nights move As serpentine ways mount Through dark grooves Slowly, inch by inch Leaving me lurking, In the oblivion Hounding like a wild dog The twitchy ambiance Anxious of Missing lure of tender arms Pricks my conscience And hurts my consciousness, Like stifled nipples By the warm touch of lips Do on one’s bare breast Till the patches of moon Through the lone window Into my bed room Bring with them Your tender caress On the burning blisters Of my solitude And patting gently The crater of desire That waits for the pangs Of my lonely heart to subside And causes me and my solitude Both of us to go for a long sleep In each others’ arms.