Sitabz Garg Poet I do not know?

Reverie

Half awake
 I hear the clock and the calendar
 having a fight.
The clock was uncertain
 whether to strike one or thirteen, 
and it irritated the calendar.
 They fight every night
 after I go to sleep.
 They don't know 
that I always listen.
No longer interested 
I give in to sleep
But as usual
 its not sleep that comes.
I fell myself drowning, 
but its not water that's 
fills my lungs
I fell that I am being swallowed 
by this monstrous beast.
This beast has no breath of fire, 
Its not loud, has no wings, 
no sharp claws, 
long teeth, red eyes, nothing. 
I slide down its belly 
Its not fear that I feel, 
Maybe
an extreme sense
 of loneliness, 
or is it boredom? 
I can no longer tell.
This beast, blank 
and featureless 
is my town perhaps, 
 or is it a country, 
or a house, 
A room, a bed...
It's not the darkness 
that hides the beast, 
Nor the thunderous clouds 
or the tallest trees.
The TV was on, in the other room
I go deeper and deeper 
The fight ended, 
 I dont know who won, 
with my ears still fixed on the TV 
I go down, 
 possession, possession 
The calendar made some noise, 
The clock like always, was silent



B. Depression and sadness

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