Sleep With the Dot

“You won’t be satisfied’ -That was the voice i heard and i turned the pages of the manuscript, one by one; and it featured the pearls impreganted to them turning gold dissecting the conglomeration of foresaken words foxed by (un)bound faith, berarted by depraved independence….. i was apt to imagine, the emblem of affable federalism interfering the transmission from the scriptures, The (--(SCRIPT)--) Don’t shower any light on me For i am afraid, If i can make any pretence at eating; You stony eyes; don’t gaze at me i won’t be moved by your stagnant glare. Six days ago, it had rained heavily -A Divine Rain. And now, Though the clouds of darkness encompass the darkness, there may not be a rain today and sweat may again adhere to my body pleading for its liberation from self. Even with the door left ajar, i will not enter the garden experiencing severe drought As i know for sure, there are only a few white chessmen left on the chess-board spread across the cryptic sky. The reverberations of enchanted hymns dissolve in my ears, plugging my veering mind, drawing the thin atmosphere into nullity. But… For how long will I lie this frigid bed obsessed with wounds, resisting the warmth, in the air of sustained captivity!? I should arise now…. I must arise now with my black apparels on to see the Reverend old man guarding the pious fire And I’ll make sure my maid doesn’t wipe out the blood-stains clung to the floor For, I’ve to come again to smoothen the wrinkled bed and to depart, forever….