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!
Writer at IRAP
