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….
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