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.
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