At the witching hour,
I am usually in between awe and gloom.
Reality does not seem to be my pal
For I incessantly seek
An Eternal Hegira
Where,
I don’t need to adumbrate against
The darkness of the night;
Where.
I could reveal myself freely;
Where,
My cicatrix flesh would be honorable;
Where,
I can laugh with reckless exuberance
And won’t have to crouch in iniquity…
Instead,
Radiate as an ancient patina;
Where,
My beloved would never behave wantonly;
Where,
My anima won’t be an inescapable labyrinth-
But
An alluring Eden of eudemonic flora;
Where,
My tears would morph into fairy sages;
Where,
I can be a flying pig
Or
A prudent dragon who is as old as Time.
Where is this haven?
And…
What must I do to manifest them all?
I dream up whimsically and hope…
All these are not only in my stellar consciousness.
I could share it with somebody too!
Why is the material existence so damned bleak ?
And,my chimera alike imagination immensely wild?
Sometimes,
I long to be tamed too…
Although,
By none other than The Crafty Old Wizard
Who would navigate my path by Heart;
Who would let me freefall
And,
Still catch me when I do!
How deplorable that…
All these exist
Only and precisely
Inside my head.
I feel like Alice.
Tell me this is real
And,
I was just asleep when I wake.
tell me,
This rabbit hole isn’t
A delusional phenomenon
But,
God’s Own Volition.
Why must I be this dreadful
And,
Why am I so very covetous?
For such a beautiful Maya
If at all it is one?
Wake me up if this is just
A dream…
Planted by a Jinn…
Wake me up!
Wake me up!
Wake me up!
The writer is currently pursuing Masters in English Language and Literature from Manipal Academy of Higher Education, Bengaluru. She earlier interned at Bowel Cancer UK as a public relations assistant in London, and after receiving training as an English teacher under Via Lingua International in Istanbul
